House of the Setting Sun 6: Watcher looking at? 2
by BattleKitten
Summary: The conclusion to Watcher looking at? Faith’s on the run, sort of, with only a day left until her parole officer comes to town. While Buffy would like to worry about that, she’s too busy worrying about the invasions, kidnappings and attacks going on at
1. Teaser

**Watcher looking at? - Part two.**

**Disclaimer**: I do not own any of the BtVS or Ats characters used in this fanfiction and I make no money from the hobby.

**Rating**: M

**Pairings**: Buffy/Faith, Willow/Kennedy

**Warnings**: Femslash pairings obviously means femslashy situations, also het and slash pairings to come.

**Summary**: The conclusion to Watcher looking at? Faith's on the run, sort of, with only a day left until her parole officer comes to town. While Buffy would like to worry about that, she's too busy worrying about the invasions, kidnappings and attacks going on at home.

* * *

**Previously on House of the Setting Sun:**

_Faith started to inch towards the open doorway, but then sighing impatiently, she gave up._

"_Okay I'm too damn tired to play cat and mouse with you. If there's someone here come on out so we can be introduced."_

_A pair of yellow eyes appeared in the darkness of the open doorway._

_Faith nodded to herself. "Not kids then."_

'_Guess one vamp isn't gonna cut into nap time too much. Better not make me hungry though; can't afford to eat again until I hit the road outta here tomorrow.' Faith thought as she reached for the stake tucked inside her jacket._

"_Come on then, let's get this…" Faith's voice trailed off when she noticed the second and third pairs of malevolent glowing eyes. Her body shifted into a tighter stance of defence and she sneered. "Okay so this is gonna be a nice little bedtime work out. It'll beat the hell out of doing a thousand crunches on a cold stone floor."_

_There was a vicious snarl behind her and before she could even turn her head, a fourth vampire attacked from the kitchen._

* * *

_**Teaser**_

"Holy shit!" Faith was forced forward as a vampire landed hard on her back, claws of one hand digging into the shoulder of her denim jacket and the claws of the other gripping her hair to stay in place. The sudden unexpected weight had her staggering backwards again.

Growling reverberated inside her left ear and she could only assume that the sticky wet shit running down her cheek was drool.

Great, she was gonna get killed and she was gonna puke doing it! So not the way she wanted to go.

Ignoring the pain from the hair pulling, Faith twisted as best she could with a devil on her back and rammed her shoulder into the corridor wall, crushing her attacker.

He or she screamed and Faith felt a handful of hair come loose from her scalp. "Ow, that friggin' hurt." Standing free again, she pulled back her arm and socked the vampire, male as it happened, hard in the face.

Any pain he felt he shook off easily and came back at her and the two started exchanging blows in the narrow hall between the kitchenette and the empty shop. Faith had the upper hand, but only just slightly and she was only too aware that another three vampires were watching openly from the dark doorway halfway up the corridor.

They weren't attacking yet though. Maybe they were just enjoying the show or maybe they knew that there just wasn't enough room for all four of them to have a go at her at once or maybe they were just too lazy to lend a hand in the killing and were gonna let their buddy do all the hard work before sitting down to eat.

Yeah well they'd bitten off more than they could chew this time. Faith grimaced at her cliché and put extra force into her next punch to make up for it. Her strength was down, she knew it, it would be a couple of dozen hot meals before she got it fully back, but what she was missing in muscle mass she could make up for in sheer anger.

"All I wanted to do was sleep." She grunted between punches.

"Hey, yuh know, I think she's a Slayer." She heard one of the watching Vampire's say conversationally.

"You don't say." Faith's vampiric punching bag growled to them. He was still on his feet, but he was pretty much just dodging blows now. "How about a little help?" He ground out between his fangs.

"Sure thing." Faith switched tactics and shoved her stake into his heart.

She spun for the dark doorway as he dusted just in time for the three remaining vampires to land on her.


	2. Act one

Hey guys - big thanks to everyone who's been reading and/or reviewing this series. I know I haven't been updating much recently, but to everyone who's stuck it out and is still following this, I promise they'll come thicker and faster in the new year.

Happy Holidays!

* * *

**_Act one_**

Willow smiled politely as Beryan, the Pixie leader, entered through her bedroom window, her smile lessened as another three followed their chief through and it turned to an all out frown as another six suddenly jumped into the room from the other window.

Xander stayed in his seat looking about him at the little figures that were now using the curtains to abseil to the carpet. As they reached the floor another ten came through the bedroom windows.

Buffy had already moved further into the room when the tapping had started, but she'd stopped when she realised it wasn't Faith, now she watched warily as the purple beings swarmed around her and began using their tiny hands and feet to haul themselves up onto the bed.

Another ten coming into the room had Willow stepping hurriedly closer to Buffy and Xander, in other words further away from the Pixie-sprouting window.

The Slayer looked from one friend to the other but finding no flicker of understanding; she turned to face the Pixies who by now were lining themselves up regimentally on Willow and Kennedy's orange tie-dyed quilt cover.

"First of all, you guys really should think about the co-ordinating a little better, 'cause you and the bed, kinda clashy," Buffy observed, before asking, "And second of all: what's with the invasion of Willowsville?"

**

* * *

**

In the boy's dormitory Peter burst out laughing when Miley fell over his own feet trying to leave. Rajiv joined in and even Reece cracked a smile despite the bad mood he was in.

If he was to be honest, Reece would have to admit that he'd thought this Watcher selection camp would be a doddle. That he'd breeze through his time at Sunset Camp in the same way he breezed through everything else.

After all, he was living in a house made up pre-dominantly of women and that had always been his area of expertise. Except not on this side of the pond apparently.

He felt he'd made an enemy of Ms Summers without even trying, which hadn't been the smartest thing to do as the prissy bitch held a lot of sway with old man Rupert.

Not that the old boy could discount him on the say so of his one time Slayer. No, the Highbury name was too well invested in the history of the Council for that. If Reece was turned away because of something Buffy Summers said, there would be many questions asked that Rupert might find difficult to answer. Maybe the little band of vagabonds from Sunnydale thought that Mr Giles was now the Council's top brass, but there were plenty of people back in Britain that didn't want they're heritage going to the bloody yanks.

So this hadn't been the cake walk he was hoping for, but it hadn't been a total waste of time. He'd met the delightful Dawn Summers for one, and was pleased to find that she was nothing like her sister. He was confident enough to bet that before he returned to England he would know her even better. Yes, there were reasons to keep on smiling.

"Up you get, Miley," Reece called to the boy as he started for the door himself. "Or do we have to get you stabilizers for your feet."

Rajiv broke into easy laughter at the jibe, which wasn't a surprise considering the concoction of herbs and mushrooms the young man had been consuming since they'd arrived. What was a surprise was the way Anthony's feet suddenly disappeared from view. Or maybe it was the way they lifted off the ground before they disappeared from view.

Either way it was enough to stop Reece in his tracks. He frowned at the doorway. Something was going on here.

Another surprise came in the form of Peter shouting. It was a shout of pain and annoyance and Reece immediately turned to his best friend.

"What is it?" He demanded.

Peter was staring at his hand which he was holding up to his face. "A…a…a cocktail stick, I think."

"What?" Reece didn't understand but he didn't like the pale complexion his friend now had. Another squeal from outside had him heading for the door again.

"He's got a cocktail stick sticking in his hand." Rajiv cleared up Peter's predicament as he leaned in for a closer look. "How d'you manage that?"

"I…I didn't," Peter stuttered. "Someone threw it at me."

Rajiv looked around at the sparsely furnished dormitory. "Like who man?"

"I dunno. Just… pull it out of me or something." Peter held his hand out to Rajiv.

"Do it yourself." Rajiv backed up some. "It's only a cocktail stick."

"Yeah, but it's like all the way in. I can see it coming out…" Peter had to stop talking to swallow. "Just bloody do …Ow!" He suddenly jerked forwards and grabbed at his bum which caused him to say "Ow." Again.

Reece looked out of the door, trying his best to make out the darker shape against the darkness of the lawn. He wanted to believe that Miley was just, for some unknown reason, crawling on hands and knees across the grass away from the dorms and the house, but his eyes wouldn't reconcile what his brain wanted to believe. The shape was all wrong. And there had been the scream. And, well, all of it really.

"You two pack it in. I think something's got Anthony. Let's…" Reece started to marshal his limited troops.

"Sod Miley, I got bigger problems." Peter complained.

Reece turned to him impatiently. Peter was standing almost on tiptoe and the paleness had been replaced by redness; he was breathing a little irregularly.

"His arse is full of cocktail sticks." Rajiv explained, barely keeping his giggle in check.

Reece took a second to register that, but failed. "What?"

Peter sheepishly turned around to show that indeed someone had used his arse as one would use a pineapple at a cocktail party.

"What the hell..?" Reece shook his head and watched in amazement as Peter flinched again. A stick was now imbedded in the front of his right thigh. Looking around Reece couldn't see where they might be coming from.

Making a snap decision he barked his orders. "Both of you get down and Rajiv de-quill Pete. I'm going after whatever's got Miley. Hopefully it hasn't eaten him yet."

Squatting quickly, Reece pulled a rapier out from under his bed and sucked in a breath as a cocktail stick pierced the skin of his hand. He pulled it out irritably and was back on his feet again, heading for the door. He threw one last order over his shoulder before he reached the threshold. "Stay in here."

"Guud idaai, Biggaar!"

Reece didn't see what uttered the foreign battle cry, but whatever it was swung through the door way and kicked him right between the eyes with both feet.

His brain registered the pain as his body toppled over backwards. As sleep started to claim him, he imagined it was like being hit with a sock full of pool balls and then he was out.

**

* * *

**

"Wee trasted yow, Buffee, aand yow brook yow prumis. Sow naw wee taake iit intow oor oown haans."

Beryan's anger was making her accent thicker than usual and Buffy was having a hard time deciphering every word, but she was getting the gist.

"You're still not happy about the Watcher trainees being here."

There was shouted agreement throughout the Pixie ranks.

* * *

Naomi finished brushing her hair and placed the brush back in her bag. No such thing as a dressing table here. Everything she owned was packed into the super sized rucksack her father had purchased especially for this trip.

'A Watcher,' he'd intoned, 'must always be prepared to decamp with only the clothes on their back.'

But William Ramstock knew his daughter well, which was why he gave her a rucksack large enough to carry her entire wardrobe around on her back. With room left for a kitchen sink if she cared for one.

It wasn't exactly the lap of luxury though and no one had brought a travel iron with them and the one belonging to the camp's permanent residents was already sorely overused.

Still, camp life was fun in its own way. Naomi smiled at Rona and Alison as they finished getting ready.

"Are we all set?"

"Set to jet." Alison agreed, pulling a black woollen cap over her dark blonde hair. "If tonight is anything like the last full moon, you're in for quite the experience." She grinned good-naturedly at Naomi.

Rona packed an extra stake into the thigh pocket of her cargo pants. "Yeah well Werewolves are a new one on me too," she said. "So let's hope we don't have the fun you guys had last time."

The two Slayers and one Watcher were about to leave the girl's dormitory, but were stalled by the tiny purple man sitting on the door handle. Actually at first it was the tiny purple man that stalled them, but then the three noticed the tugging on they're pant legs and looked down.

"What on earth…" Naomi cried, jumping back. The little purple thing just clung on and when she was still again continued its climb up her clothes. "What is it?"

Rona was dancing around, she had two of the beings on her and neither one would be shaken loose. "It's those little critters from the woodshed. What the hell are they doing in here?"

Alison, the longest resident at the camp in the room, was the only one to remain calm. "It's okay, they are friendly. They don't want to hurt us. I don't know what they want, but I'm sure it's not to hurt us." For someone who didn't have a clue as to what was going on, she sounded pretty convincing.

Naomi tried to keep still and not think about spiders or rats crawling all over her, these things looked nothing like spiders or rats, plus they were purple, so why couldn't she stop thinking about them?

Rona quit her jumping around, more because it wasn't doing any good than because she believed Alison. The two pixies climbing her had reached the braids woven into her hair during her stay in Kenya, and went up them hand over hand. When they reached her ears Rona couldn't see them, but she felt the sudden prick to her ear lobe. "What the hell are they doing?" She asked again.

Naomi had her eyes closed now, so she had no way of knowing what was going on.

Alison looked down at the pixie climbing up the front of her sweatshirt and gulped. It held the tiniest crossbow the young Slayer had ever seen, not that she'd seen a lot, and it was pointing at her right nostril.

"Okay so far, this is nothing like the last full moon," she squeaked.

* * *

Faith was fighting for her life in the tiny corridor between the shop and the kitchenette.

Initially driven backwards under the combined weight of all three vampires jumping her at once, she was now backed up against the wall delivering blow after blow to her attackers. Only problem was, even using both hands at the same time, she was still only doing two-thirds of the damage to them that they were doing to her.

Normally three vampires wouldn't even cause her to sweat, but she was beyond tired and her body hadn't had the novelty of a square meal in a couple of days. Right now, she knew she was only at fifty percent fitness and that it wasn't good enough.

She weaved from side to side trying to dodge as many as their punches as she could. Catching one's arm she yanked him towards her and dropped her shoulder so that his face slammed into the wall behind. Faith pushed him away again and he stumbled drunkenly as blood spilled from the large gash in his bumpy forehead.

That move cost her a world of pain as another took the opportunity to get in a good couple of shots to her face. She slumped back against the wall, just for a second as the pain flared and died, and then she was back out swinging with punches that became even more undisciplined the longer the fight went on.

At last she got lucky, a shot opened up and Faith plunged her stake deep into a vampire's chest, but just as the wood penetrated skin another of the evil undead rammed himself hard into her left side.

Going up on tiptoe, she cried out in pain, as that shoulder, already weak from an accident (of sorts) years before, was wrenched upwards with some force. The stake still in her other hand penetrated at the wrong angle, and while it caused the demon to howl out his own pain, it wasn't the killing strike Faith had needed.

Before she fully recovered herself, the bastard that had rammed her in the first place grabbed two handfuls of her jacket and threw her to the other side of the narrow corridor and it was Faith's turn to smack face first into the painted brick wall.

She staggered back, reeling, threw a blind punch hoping it might connect with something and then took a kick to the stomach that doubled her over, coughing. Another blow to the side of the head had her falling sideways to the floor.

Dazed as hell, she struggled against the three vampires now on top of her, pinning her to the linoleum floor.

**

* * *

**

"Good lord, I never realised there were so many." Giles replaced his glasses for another long hard look at the pixies. Purple beings perched on book shelves and furniture, curtain rails and door handles, they clung to the ceiling fan and the banisters. All but the one atop the TV were brandishing weapons; tiny yet lethal looking weapons.

Kennedy and Vi had both sprung to their feet the moment they'd noticed their campmates were armed, but they hadn't done anything else. What else was there to do against foes seven inches tall at most?

The Pixies weren't doing anything but watching them, and watching them quite timidly too for the most part. One or two looked to be glaring with fierce indigo eyes, but it was mostly the silence that was unnerving. They seemed to be waiting for something, a signal possibly or maybe to see what the humans were going to do.

Giles was caught between fascination and slight tickle of fear.

The weapons the little beings held were…knitting needles? Yes he was pretty sure they were knitting needles. Where on earth they had gotten them from was a mystery to him, as far as he knew no one in the house knitted, but then the beings themselves were enough of a mystery to start with. Along with the sixteen inch needles some of them also carried round metal shields fashioned from what looked to be the tops of tin cans.

Primitive their arms and armour may have been, but one couldn't deny their ingenuity.

"This isn't all of them." Andrew, still sitting on the couch, was hugging the baby demon to his chest.

Goorzah herself appeared oblivious as she stuck her foot into the plastic bowl fallen from Vi's lap, kicking popcorn around as she tried to pick up kernels with her fat toes.

Dawn rose from her armchair, careful not to make any sudden or alarming movements and sidled over to the sofa where she lifted Goorzah's legs, much to the young demon's chagrin and settled herself under them, as close to Andrew as she could manage.

"Hey guys." She waved to their unexpected visitors once she was settled.

"What do you mean this isn't all of them?" Giles asked. "There must be fifteen at least."

"I'm counting seventeen." Kennedy glanced sidelong at Giles as she spoke to him while trying to keep as many of their visitors in sight as possible. "But Andrew's right – this isn't all of them."

"Good lord," Giles repeated under his breath.

* * *

Upstairs, Willow's bedroom resembled a pro-war rally.

"Yeah I get what you're saying…" Buffy tried to make herself heard over the Pixies shouting, but they just got louder.

"Git theem oot!"

"Naw Watchoors on oor laaan!"

"Naw moe Watchoors, naw moe Watchoors, naw moe Watchoors…"

"Keek theem intha conkernockels!"

Xander winced.

"Why are you wincing?" Willow asked in a hushed voice.

The two were standing by Willow's wardrobe now at the back of the room away from the bed.

"Conkernockels, kicking in the… Let's just say I don't need a diagram."

Willow giggled, only shushing herself when Buffy turned a half angry, half helpless look her way.

"Yes, well, luckily you're not a Watchoor." She whispered to Xander when Buffy had gone back to being drowned out.

"Yeah just being a carpenter has its perks sometimes."

They fell silent as they listened to the protest again.

"Sen theem bak tow Englaaan!"

"Naw Watchoors on oor laaan!"

"Tuk eem tow a bricklstilk!"

Willow and Xander glanced at each other questioningly before shrugging and turning back to watch the show.

"Look, Pixies I know your upset." Buffy was trying. "Everyone in Ohio knows you're upset," she added, "but this isn't doing anything but giving me a headache."

"Piskies, Skallcock!"

"Dundlehead Biggar!"

"Piskies oof tha Crow an Wragh, yow unream'd tootened pattick!"

"I think she made them mad." Xander pretended to scratch his chin to hide his grin.

Willow didn't seem to hear him. Turning his way she said seriously: "You're not jus**t** a carpenter."

"Well I'm certainly no plumber."

"I mean you're not _just_ a carpenter, being a carpenter, especially a good one like you, that's a big deal, Xander. How many times did you rebuild Casa Summers when the First was after us?" she asked as an example.

"Yeah but I'd had a lot of practice by the end there. I was like one of those rats in Science Class – sure it looked clever making its way through all the right tubes, but really it just remembered where the pellets had been before." He grinned, refusing to take her compliments seriously.

"Xander…"

A shrill whistle cut off Willow's next words and the riotous Pixies. The Scoobies looked to Buffy, but she was looking as surprised as everyone else.

Eventually all eyes turned to the crescent of brass that served as the Willow and Kennedy's headboard.

Beryan, Mawther of the Piskies, was standing on it, balancing perfectly despite her ample frame. When all eyes were upon her she shouted:

"You aar all aas baad aas each utheer! Dundleheads! Naw wonder tha human races aar in sor much traable!

Willow and Xander shared another look, asking in unison, "What did we do?"

* * *

Craig sat with his back to the wall of the house underneath the Rhododendron bush. No one had left yet, or at least no one had left in the truck. It was possible the patrol, as Andrew had called it, would be going on foot, but Craig could hear lots of shouting coming from a window above and just around the corner from where he was sitting. He couldn't really make out what was being shouted, but he heard the Slayer's voice and surely she'd be going on the patrol with the others.

Getting as comfortable as he could while being attacked by an army of gnats, he decided to wait until the place quietened down a bit before putting his plan into action.

**

* * *

**

They weren't biting her!

Through the haze of rage and pain this was the thought that kept repeating itself in Faith's brain. If they'd been really determined, the three of them could have drained her dry by now, but instead two of the fiends held her upper body tightly against the dirty linoleum while the third swiftly unbuckled her belt and unzippered her jeans.

Disgust joined the rage and pain as she realised what they had in mind.

"No! Get off me you friggin' perverts," Faith thrashed about uselessly as her jeans were tugged over her ass. "Get off me, get off me, GET OFF!" she screamed as loud as she could.

"Would one of you shut her the hell up!" The vampire pulling at her jeans demanded as he moved down her legs, pulling the pants with him.

A rough hand slapped hard over her mouth, shutting her up. Biting down hard, she bit a chunk out of the hand and there was a squeal of pain followed by the taste of gross cold blood in her mouth. The hand went away and Faith desperately tried to spit the blood back out. If she swallowed any of that shit and they bit her, she was well and truly screwed.

Unwittingly she was given help by the one of her attackers. A hand gripped her throat, squeezing hard enough to make sure she couldn't swallow a thing, possibly for ever. Strangulation was a lot more fun to give than receive.

"Careful Dave, I want Faith nice and alive for this." The voice came from down by her feet. She couldn't see that vampire anymore, but she could feel him unhooking her jeans from her ankles and pulling them completely off.

The hand on her throat gave a particularly sharp squeeze then, Dave obviously didn't like taking orders, and Faith kicked out with both legs as she tried pushing herself away from the choking pressure on her throat.

Both of her feet connected with something that could only be her pant-stealing pervert. "Hey, hold her!" he cried, as he was kicked a few feet backwards to land on his ass.

The pressure on her throat was lifted as Dave laughed. The other vampire growled in response and grabbed her under the chin, wrenching her head backwards, but Faith could breathe again and she had her legs free. Before the vampire by her feet could recover, she rolled her body backwards, bringing her legs up over her head and kicking both Dave and the other goon in the head. As they fell back she scrambled to her feet, gingerly feeling the skin of her throat and finding it swollen.

She'd have to lay off the karaoke for a while then, and damn she was such a fan.

The pervert was already on his feet in front of her, slowly balling her pants up before chucking them behind him.

"How do you know my name?" she asked, every word scratching her throat. She took an intimidating step forward and he didn't so much as flinch.

"Who said I knew your name?" he asked with a shrug.

"You just said it, dumbass."

His reply was a punch so quick and so hard, that she didn't see it coming until his fist knocked her backwards off her feet, into Dave and the other vampire waiting behind her. It had hurt so much that it was a moment before she could even think to struggle and by then Dave and his pal had a tight hold on her once more.

"Do not ever call me that again!" the pervert shouted at her, tiny nauseating specks of spittle hitting her face.

"What, dumbass?" she asked, her face screwing up in revulsion she tried to turn her face to her left shoulder to wipe the moisture off. A knee rammed into her lower back and a twisting of left arm, sharp enough to make her forget her aching face, kept her still. "I think the name suits you," she ground out defiantly.

A second blow to her face delivered at the same time as another knee met her spine from behind drew a shout from her, half from pain and half from anger. An arm went around Faith's neck, dragging her upper body down from behind and almost choking the life from her, clawing at the arm did as much good as kicking a giant in the shin and Faith had no choice but to go where it wanted her to go.

"What the hell is your problem?" It wasn't easy for Faith to talk, but she gurgled the words out. If Dave or the other guy, she didn't know which was holding her now, loosened up a little they'd be dust before she turned around. Or they would be if wishing made it so. One thing was for sure, the sooner they killed her, the less time she had to get out of this place alive.

The vampire who seemed to be in charge smiled at her again around a full set of sharp fangs. "You mean aside from the obvious."

"Yeah, if you just wanted to taste slayer blood I'd be dead by now," she gurgled. "You have some personal beef with me and I want to know what before I kill you."

Faith's big talk was met with more smiling from her aggressor. "You see the position you're in, right? Slayer all alone and captured by three of her mortal enemies? Do you really think you're the one calling the shots here?"

Faith sneered, "You low-life's ain't my mortal enemies, you're just the scum that floats on the top."

That one hit home, Faith realised as the vampire in charge leaned in and grabbed her by the side of the face.

"Yeah, I'm glad you think like that," he growled, "because very, _very_ soon Faithy, you are going to be kissing this scum's feet." He released her face and patted her cheek hard, causing threads of pain to resonate out from the bruising. "Let's see how you like that."

There he went using her name again. She had no problem with vampires trying to kill her, well she had a problem with it obviously, but it was just part of the job, but when they started getting personal, that made it creepy.

"Keep talking while you can, Scumboy."

Faith fought the urge to struggle against the vampires holding her back. The choke hold had loosened enough to allow her to talk easily, although every word still hurt her throat, but she didn't have enough room to wriggle away yet. To struggle too soon would just make them tighten their grips on her again. Knowing this didn't make it any easier to keep herself in check while the evil bloodsucker grinned inches away from her and she could feel the other two behind, pressing against her, making her skin crawl and her stomach hurt with the staticky warning cramps that came with the Slayer package.

"Just out of interest, how much blood do you guys have to lose before the body shrivels up and you go back to being whiny voices blowing in the wind?" Faith continued to goad them, images of torture filling her mind as she wondered how many holes you could put in a vampire before the only place left un-staked was the heart. "'Cause in a minute, I'm gonna make you wish you'd never been killed."

The vampire in front of her growled, "You did that already!" he shouted in her face. "You spent two months doing that; and now it's my turn to make _your_ death a living hell."

"Now what are you talking about?" she shouted back. "When did I ever do anything to you?"

"Sunnydale!" He was almost screaming in fury now, and his punch to her stomach wasn't exactly friendly either.

"Okay," The word whooshed out along with her breath and Faith, coughing, would have doubled over if the arm around her neck had allowed it. "That explains things a little," she spluttered.

The ex-Sunnydale vampire laughed. "Every time you put me down. Every time you hit me to relieve a little _tension!_ Every time _you_ got what _I_ deserved! You're gonna get it back tenfold." He punched her in the stomach again.

At this rate it was the coughing that was gonna kill Faith first as she struggled to catch her breath yet again.

"Dude, I'm still drawing a blank – you gotta a name I might remember?" she asked sarcastically once she'd recovered enough.

"Jake." He patted himself on the chest with both hands. "And you're Faith. You think I wouldn't remember you? Coming into my home, slaying my pals – You really think I wouldn't remember you?" he repeated in a shout, punching her in the face again.

She fell back against one of the vampires behind, her head lolling to the side. He growled, twisting her hair painfully so she had no choice but to look up at Jake again.

"Guess I'm just more memorable than you." She spluttered against the blood welling up inside her mouth.

"Still a smart-mouth bitch ain't you. I always knew that was gonna be your downfall. The boss might have had a soft spot for you, but sooner or later he'd have gotten as sick of your crap as the rest of us were – I am so sorry I never got to see him eat you. We all knew it was coming."

The Boss? Ah crap, now she knew who this chump was. He'd been her lackey on most of her work related missions; normally the messy ones. "You worked for the Mayor."

"Yeah and I was with him long before you came along too. I was his top guy until that rat-bastard Trick came to town, he was another one whose mouth was smarter than his brain."

"Yeah well I did you a favour then, stakin' him. You should be thanking me." Faith coughed. She had to keep him arguing while she recovered a little.

"Maybe," Jake nodded, "Maybe you could look at it like that. If you hadn't decided to fill his shoes before his dust even settled." Reaching out suddenly he grabbed the side of her face again, obviously his signature move, squeezing painfully tight. "Do you know how embarrassing it was for me to be demoted for a human?" His fingers increased the pressure on her cheek and jaw, any second now he was going to cave in the bone. "Do you?"

Faith clenched her teeth against the urge to scream until she was able to push past the pain, eventually she ground out: "Pretty damn embarrassing?"

She lost her breath again as she was punched in the stomach and the arm around her throat stopped her from sucking any more air in. This time when the coughing started it didn't seem to want to stop and Faith's lungs soon started burning to match the blaze spreading through her stomach and the heat coming from her cut and bruised face.

"Having a smart mouth got Trick killed." She could hear Jake telling her although she was too busy struggling again to focus on him. "And now it's gonna get you killed too."

"Like hell it is." Faith rasped as she fought to get free. It was a weak effort; most of her energy was used up now and try as she might she couldn't seem to gather any more.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna bring you back, and then we'll see who's the boss." Jake promised, before demanding, "Hold her!"

The arm around her neck increased it's pressure and her arms were forced behind her back, the hands holding them so tight she was gonna get third degree friction burns on her wrists if she struggled much more.

"You're gonna turn me?" Faith asked with difficulty; and dread.

"I'm gonna make you my minion." Jake laughed.

Despite Faith's increasingly woozy state, or maybe because of it, Jake's fangs seemed to flash into focus. Bright sharp white in the gloom of the corridor.

"Like hell you are!" Faith wheezed defiantly.

"Like hell I am!" Jake agreed happily. "You ready for the ride of your life, _Minion_?" He dropped to his knees and gripped her bare thighs hard enough to bruise as he pulled them apart.

Faith coughed up a little blood and spat it down on his head while she found the strength to talk. "Uh, retard, I think you're a little bit confused… that ain't gonna…" A scream took over her sentence as Jake sank his teeth deep into the upper inside of her thigh.

* * *

As the full moon rose slowly over Boudenver, a long, frightened scream came from an upstairs room of the Thomas' house on Old Town Road.

Snarling followed, almost drowning out the sound of a man shouting in panic.

A black and white cat, until then happily sauntering down the road, shot a foot into the air before taking off at break-neck speed. Not caring which direction it went in, just that it got as far away as possible from the source of the disturbance.

Bangs and crashes erupted, one sounding very much like a bunk bed being pushed to the ground, which was in fact the case. Neighbours close enough to hear the commotion, frowned at their walls, wondering whether they should go and see if all was well.

Glass and wood smashed, shards from the window flying out to land twenty feet on the road below. A shaggy grey streak of terror followed them, hitting the road on all four paws. Metal shackles hung from one of its paws and bits of plaster fell from the loose end as the monster-wolf shook himself and disappeared into the night.

The remains of the window were shoved upwards with some force and a woman, Mrs Thomas, leaned over the sill, trying to see where the beast that had destroyed her son's bedroom had gone.

Seeing nothing but the twitching of neighbouring curtains, she screamed out: "Eric Thomas, you get back here right now!" When there was no answer she slammed her hands on the window sill in frustration.

* * *

Beryan, still standing on the brass bed frame, began to tell the story of the Watcher Wars:

"For a score and ten years we lived in harmony here with the Council of the Setting Sun, aiding in their fight against the evil-beings drawn to the Hellmouth, facing our own battles against the Feeders from time to time and doing what we could to find what was needed for this dwelling to course smooth. We naturally knew more of the land-fruits than Biggars did and our knowledge was not only welcomed but celebrated."

The Pixie leader spoke clearly, her accent easy to understand when she was calm.

"Until the day that _skallcock_ of a man commandeered the camps in Eenglan. He claim us Bal! Us Bal? How can we be accused of being vermin when it is the Biggars that behave worse than rats?" She looked about to spit in disgust.

"Please don't." Willow piped up, fearing for her quilt.

Beryan recovered her composure and continued, her voice unhappy. "When they drove us out of this dwelling," she looked sadly about her at the bedroom as if they'd been driven from that very room. "Poisoned our food and took away all that we had – we let them. We thought it was some mistake, that the ancient pacts had been muddied by some foul deed and that the world would right itself as it always eventually does. But Travers, the skurry Skagdan, he had made no mistake, he knew in exact what he was achieving by tearing the pacts between our races…"

"Whoa there," Buffy stepped closer to the end of the bed, suddenly a lot more interested. "You said Travers, but you also said this happened years ago – how does that add up?"

"How many years ago was it exactly that your pact was, uh, torn?" Willow asked.

Beryan was silent while she worked it out. "Three score and ten." She said eventually. "More or less."

"Seventy years." Said Willow

Buffy had already worked that out for herself. She was starting to get a weird feeling in her chest, like a building pressure that was oddly familiar in an unreassuring way.

"So Travers was like five, if that, when he kicked you out of the cubby-house?" She asked as she tried to ignore the feeling. Maybe she'd eaten a bad Brussels sprout at dinner.

"I do not know, but I imagine he was not a chid-Biggar when he pledged the Oath of the Watchers and then destroyed it." Beryan was watching Buffy closely, notably the way her fists kept clenching and unclenching.

"Maybe it wasn't our Travers," said Xander, still leaning against the wardrobe. "Maybe it was his Dad or his Uncle or something."

"Maybe, we can ask Giles. Go on." Buffy told the Pixie leader.

"When the word of Travers reached our fellow dwellers they were slow to act in accord; they no longer came to us for help and we were excluded from meetings where once our presence would have been blessed, but there was no malice in their actions. Until _they_ came and took over our land. Biggars we did not know, and at first foolishly trusted, but it was not long before our shelters were trashed and our bearns were captured and imprisoned."

"Imprisoned?" Willow glanced Buffy's way. "The Watchers kidnapped your children. That's awful."

"Sauld inta sleevary!" Shouted one of the Pixies.

Buffy turned to his hostile shout as it scraped like nails down a chalkboard across her senses. What was wrong with her?

"Apparently we fetch a guud price on the black-market." Beryan said wryly, looking at Willow.

Buffy, those indigo eyes off of her for the moment, tried to relax but her muscles refused.

"Like for magick?" Willow couldn't help recalling class-less afternoons spent pricing and cataloguing ingredients at the Magic Box, not to mention the times spent actually doing spells. She'd always assumed Pixie Balls was just a cute name for a flower or something, now she wasn't so sure.

"Yeah well you guys are pretty cute, I'm sure lots of people would want one of you as a pet," said Xander, not getting it. Twenty-nine angry looking Pixies turned to him. "Not that I'm condoning keeping you as pets." He quickly backtracked. "But people weren't as enlightened back in the thirties as they are today."

Beryan was looking at Buffy again, as everyone else in the room glared at Xander. Buffy looked back. Was the little purple person somehow causing this cold pressure building up inside of her? She bounced on the balls of her feet a little.

* * *

If she didn't get out of this soon she was going to be dead. Possibly in minutes, but how long didn't matter because if he kept drinking then it was only a matter of seconds before she fainted due to low blood pressure. So she had seconds then, not minutes.

The pain was worse than when Angelus had bitten her neck. Maybe it was because she was already feeling so feeble from her week's adventures or maybe the inside of her thigh was just more sensitive. Whatever the reason, it really hurt, and having her throat almost crushed and her hands almost squeezed off at the wrists wasn't making this evening any better neither.

'_Okay I got less than seconds now, I gotta move.'_

The alternative just didn't bear thinking about. Death, well she'd resigned herself to that years ago, but being turned… No thank you!

Sure being a Vampiress - was that what chick-vamps were called? – would have its perks, Buffy would never be able to resist her for one, but then she'd have to go through the whole shit of fighting for her soul, or being cursed with a soul or some shit like that and the Scoobs would probably chain her up until she got her soul however she decided to get it. And what if she decided she didn't want a soul once she was evil, she could just see that going over well with B. Plus no more sunbathing, no more enjoying a cheeseburger and fries at MacD's, no more hot blood racing through her veins after a good slay, no more pulse, no more life…

Faith pulled both of her legs up and wrapped them around Jake's neck, grunting in pain as his fangs sank deeper into her skin. Throwing her head back, she caught the vampire holding her neck in the face. The shock loosened his arm and she used that space to slam her head back again. His growl turned to more of a yelp and despite the throbbing in the back of her skull she repeated the move until he released her completely.

Her wrists were pulled sideways as the third vampire stepped to the side, shouting, "She knocked Dave right out!"

Faith registered that but didn't have time yet to appreciate it because she was falling backwards to the ground. The only hope she had to avoid getting her arms ripped off at the shoulders was to land on vampire number three, the one holding them behind her, but without being able to see anything that was going to be next to impossible.

As she fell, Jake's fangs came free of her thigh, leaving her with the burning sensation of torn skin, and making him roar in anger. Faith kept her pain inside, using it to add to the strength of her next move. Unwrapping her legs from Jake's neck she used both feet to kick him in the chest, sending him flying across the room.

She couldn't keep her feet afterwards and went down to her knees, the vampire holding her wrists was dragged down with her, landing across her back and he clearly thought Jake's grand plan was finished. For he quickly released her wrists with one hand so he could roughly drag her head to one side and expose her neck.

'_Okay_,' Faith thought, '_just_ _swapped one shitty situation for another one.'_

Was it going to be like this all night, just fighting for her life until one of the bastards got a little luckier than her?

Preparing to flip herself forwards before the vampire's fangs could pierce her skin, because really, how much more blood could she lose? She was saved the bother by Jake coming back into the fight.

Seeing what his pal was about to do, Jake reared back his right foot and kicked the vampire in the face hard enough to make him release Faith altogether. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he raged, kicking his friend again. "She's not a snack!"

Faith rolled out of the way, trying to get to her feet, but it wasn't happening. Her leg was killing her and putting any weight on it was out of the question. She made do with half crawling and half dragging herself up the corridor towards the small kitchenette. If she was lucky, they would fight amongst themselves until she had time to get out of there.

Faith was almost at the door when her hair was grabbed and she was yanked gracelessly onto her back.

Jake seemed to swoop down into her line of vision, "Going somewhere, Minion?"

Faith spat in his face and he slapped hers hard in return, making her whole head spin.

This was it, realised, she had no more fight in her – not physically anyway. She could spit in his face a whole lot more and she was probably good for another half hour or so of insults but as Jake moved between her legs again and pulled them roughly apart, the torn skin of his failed attempt causing her agony, she knew she was done for.

'_I'm sorry B, wasn't supposed to end this way.' _she thought, gritting her teeth as fangs grazed the thigh just below the previous bite. _'Oh shit!'_

The fangs slid into her skin and Faith struggled as hard as she could to wriggle away, unfortunately it wasn't anywhere near hard enough. As she eyes opened wide in fear she could see vampire number three glaring down at her, his face bloody from the kicking Jake had given him. He wasn't helping anymore, probably because it was clear there was no need to restrain her anymore, or maybe because he was feeling a bit bitter with is friend.

One of Faith's hands gripped Jake's short hair, trying without success to pull him away from her, her other hand slapped the cold linoleum under over and over again as he took more of her blood. She could feel herself slipping, losing herself to the sensation of Jake's sucking. Her thinking was getting fluffy, softening the pain and dulling her perceptions so when her hand slapped a length of sharpened wood instead of the flooring it took a second before her fingers recognised it.

The vampire glaring down at her didn't say anything, but Faith was pretty sure he winked before backing quietly out of the door.

Her fingers felt trembly, but they curled around the stake she had dropped earlier like a life line, which come to think of it was what it was. She pulled her arm into her chest, and let go of his hair with her other hand so she had two hands to hold the stake in. She'd need all the limited strength she had to drive the shaft of wood through his skull.

Suddenly his fangs withdrew and Jake lifted his head. "Okay bitch, now your turn." he sat up a little and bit into his own wrist. When he was bleeding he moved it towards Faith's mouth.

"I just wanted to thank you Jake, for making this occasion so special," Faith sneered, her grip tightening on the stake he hadn't seemed to notice yet. To full of himself.

"Don't thank me bitch, it was all you," Jake chuckled as he pushed his wrist against Faith's now tightly closed mouth.

Faith kept her lips in a tightly pressed line, she rather die of suffocation than be turned, and focused her eyes on one particular spot as Jake leaned over her. Counting to three in her mind, Faith's eyes snapped closed and she thrust upwards from her chest as hard as she could.

The wrist pressed to her mouth went away accompanied by a garbled scream, and then Jake's weight left her completely.

Faith opened her eyes to see him sat back on his heels, both of his hands clutching at the stake sticking through his throat just above his Adam's apple. He was making a lot of noise, but none of it actually made any sense

"This… is why…I ranked …higher 'an you," she grunted, trying to fight the dizziness overtaking her. "I'm just…so much…_better_."

More garbled squealing as Jake tried to pull the stake out himself, he was having trouble because the point was stuck in the top of his spine, wedging it in there.

"Keep it down, dude, I gotta headache." Faith grumbled.

He let go of the stake and all of a sudden lunged for her, both hands ready to wrap around her neck. Faith had no choice but to sit up and grab the stake to keep him at bay. He let out another distorted scream his hands going immediately back to his throat.

"Jeez, what a sore loser," Faith slurred. "Want me to make it better?"

Jake didn't dare nod his head, but his eyes answered yes.

"Okay, but when I take this thing out of you, your first words have to be 'Faith is the best and I am nothing but a scum-licker', okay?" she drawled, her spirits rising a little at the consent in his whipped human looking eyes.

With a grunt of effort, Faith pulled the blood soaked stake from his throat.

"I'm gonna tear you limb from…" Jake gurgled as he lunged for her again.

"Fine in that case, I'm terminating your contract – effective…now." Faith staked him through the heart this time and managed an actual smile as he screamed. Now it was all coming back - _How could she have forgotten old Jakey? _Then he was dust

Faith tried to take a look at the double teeth marks in her thigh, but it was too dark in the corridor and it was way too tender to touch. She could feel the blood, still wet, oozing down her leg, but it didn't seem to be pouring out.

Wincing with every movement she started to rise to her feet. Time to find out if the electricity was still on.

She couldn't put her bitten leg down properly and just being upright made her head swim like she'd been doing the worse kinda drugs. Actually it was kinda like the night at the motel with the fancy chick, except that vampire hadn't bitten her as far as she could remember. Trying to shake her head to clear it just made it spin more so she gave up and made for the door to the back room. It was just a few steps but seemed to take such a long time.

Leaning on the doorframe, she reached into the darkness and felt around for a light switch. She didn't care any more if someone outside saw, in fact having someone call the cops might not be the worse idea in the world. Cops would call an ambulance.

All her wall patting wasn't turning up nothing though. Swaying, so not wanting to give up her claim on the doorframe, Faith leaned further in and…

…Swung herself around just in time to bring her stake up to heart height.

Dave, the vampire she had knocked out earlier looked surprised to find himself impaled on the stake. He started to voice his surprise, but dusted too soon to finish.

"Frickin' vamps think I'm stupid." Faith muttered to herself, her fingers tightening on the doorframe as her swaying became more pronounced. "Di' he thin' I fo'go' he was th…" Her fingers slipped. "…Oh shi'!"

'_Timber' _she thought giddily as she slowly fell over backwards into the dark room and then _'ouch' _as her whole body hit the floor at once

* * *

"My Grandmother was a great leader," Beryan was saying. "But she was a leader used to many, many years of peace. When the war began she knew not how to fight back and so the Crow-an-wragh suffered mightily. It was…

The sudden feeling of a lightening bolt to the chest hit Buffy as the pressure she was feeling increased a thousand times and she finally realised it for what it was, or more accurately when she'd last felt it, because she had no idea what it was and if she was honest it freaked her out more than a little.

"Faith!"

As fast as the realisation hit her she began to run for the door only to be knocked backwards off her feet before she'd moved a foot across the room. She thrashed about as she fell onto her back, trying to break free of the two dozen Pixies that had jumped her the second she'd moved, but they held her fast, pinning her to the soft carpet by her clothes. She screamed out in fear and frustration:

"FAITH!"

* * *

Faith didn't know how long she lay there in the darkness as her ragged breathing slowly calmed back to normal. She didn't think she'd passed out in the end because she couldn't recall a break from the pain, or the hunger, she was feeling. Plus she was still holding her stake.

It was still dark outside. If Faith turned her head she could see a big window along the far wall, there was a faint orangey glow coming in, probably from an electric light in one of the many apartments above and around the shop, but it was mostly blocked by stacks of boxes. The room smelled rank; the vampires had probably been nesting here for a while and there was a possibility that if Faith was able to roll over she'd come face to face with last nights lunch. Even the thought of lying next to a dead body wasn't enough to get her up.

As time went by Faith came to the conclusion she wasn't about to bleed to death. However much of her blood Jake had gotten it obviously hadn't been too much, so while she felt like shit the immediate danger had passed. Unless of course last night's lunch decided to wake up. That thought was enough to get her moving, or trying to.

Keeping her bitten leg as still as possible, 'cause it still hurt like a bitch even if it wasn't gonna be the death of her, Faith half rolled towards the wall she'd been patting down just before she fell. Grabbing the doorframe she slowly pulled herself into a sitting position.

"Okay." Running a hand through her hair, she looked about her. The darkness was hiding anything worth seeing. "Well that was worth it."

Her throat was scratchy and raw and even the small act of sitting up had made her dizzy again. She stayed where she was for a few minutes, sitting in the doorway just breathing in and out. When she felt up to moving some more she shuffled backwards on her butt, turning enough so that she could slump against the wall and rest her head back. She held her stake tightly in her hands, point out. Hopefully she could rely on instincts and reflexes to save her if she was bothered.

"Perfect," she muttered. Her eyes closed and she knew the best thing, and probably the only thing, she could do now to heal was rest.

* * *

A tall dark figure in a long black coat crept up to the back window of the shop. He had to work to see between the stacks of boxes, but when he could what he saw made him smile. He was tired and he was hungry, but this was gonna make it all worth it.

He hadn't been this close to a Slayer in a while and he'd been able to smell her from down the street. You had to love those Vampire senses sometimes. Although the scent of several of his deceased kin floating around was less appealing. Stupid kids thought taking on a Slayer was a rite of passage when really it was just a one-way ticket back to hell.

As he watched from the window he saw a newly born fledgling rise from the clutter of the room, his yellow eyes glowing with an innocence a human could never understand.

'_Well_', thought the dark figure, '_maybe not innocence_.' but this kid had no idea just what kind of a nightmare he'd awoken to.

For a moment it looked to the observer as if the new born was going to head straight out the door without even noticing the easy meal slumped against the wall, but the Slayer's heartbeat was strong enough to be heard from outside the window and it held a draw that even the newest of vampires couldn't ignore. It stopped, sniffing the air and looking warily around. As it spotted the motionless Slayer it smiled, showing lots of sharp virgin fang, and moved confidently in for the kill.

The figure outside growled and there was the crunch of shifting bone. This one was _his_! He'd found her, he'd tracked her scent all the way across town, there was no way a baby still wet behind the ears was touching his Slayer; it might be a long time before he got another opportunity like this.

He had no idea if the girl was aware she had company. She looked to be exhausted, which would make it harder for her to run or fight and he could smell fresh blood in the air. With any luck, his only obstacle was the fledgling.

He pushed the door open and entered a tiny kitchen cubicle, he didn't waste time closing the door behind him again as he rushed stealthily along the corridor. He guessed correctly that the door halfway up was the one he was looking for and leapt through just as the fledge was leaning into the Slayer's neck.

With a growl loud enough to be mistaken for a roar he swooped down low ready to rip the other vampire away, just as it exploded into dust and then he was on the defensive as a foot long pointy branch came stabbing for his chest. But he _wasn't_ an innocent babe and he grabbed the hand holding the stake as it penetrated his skin, stopping it just shy of killing him.

He grinned around his fangs.

_Tbc..._


	3. Act 2:1

**_A/n: _**Any one who has already read the recently uploaded **ACT 2 (**thank you) isn't going to find anything new in these next few chapters. I realised that posting the whole act together was crazy-insane, because it was 50 pages long. So I've split it into 5 bitesize chunks to hopefully make it more palatable. I'll begin posting **Act 3** some time in the next 2 weeks.

_**Act two**_

"I… need… to… get… to Faith!" Buffy wrestled with the pixies pinning her down, but every one she shook off pounced back onto her before she could remove another.

"Buffy what is it?" Willow was hesitating on approach, looking from the window to the door as if expecting to see the other Slayer in one or the other.

"It's Faith." Buffy was too busy struggling to explain any further. "Get off of me."

Another pixie went bouncing across the carpet. "Wiy yow Scurridge!" He jumped into the Buffy-fray again.

"Buffy!" As Xander shouted Buffy saw him drop to his knees by her side, worry and confusion clear on his face as he tried to pull Pixies from her clothes. "Ow!" His yelp made Buffy's eyes go wide and as he pulled his hand back blood dripped from a set of tiny teeth marks on his ring finger.

Willow went running, planning on shouting for help from the landing. As she neared the doorway a web of purple covered it so quick that it wasn't until she had taken a step back again that she could see what it was made of.

"You might think it was possible to get a little blasé about this stuff, but this is definitely something even we don't see every day," said the Witch wryly.

There was a pyramid of pixies blocking the doorway.

* * *

Faith closed her eyes as vampire remains exploded over her, but not before she'd seen the second threat lunging down. How many frigging vamps were nesting here anyway? Her stake continued it's upwards trajectory, her thrust hard enough to dispose of him too. Except the second vampire caught her hand, obviously not a newbie, crushing it painfully and stopping the stake from penetrating more than a millimetre into his chest.

"Is that how you're greeting old friends these days?"

The gruff voice stopped Faith from leaning forwards and shoving all her weight behind her stake and she looked up, shocked, into the dark broody face of the last person she wanted to see.

"Aw crap."

"That's not much better." Angel frowned. "I just saved your life you know."

"I had it covered." Faith leaned back against the wall again. "Can I have my hand back?"

"Are you going to use that?" Angel nodded to the stake still pressing into his coat, piercing his skin.

"Well yeah." Faith gave her first real smile in days; she even managed a chuckle which hurt her throat. "But probably not on you."

He smiled back and released her hand. She tucked the stake into her jacket.

"So, how've you been, A?" She shifted along the wall, wincing less than she had been earlier, and patted the floor beside her.

He looked at the offered spot distastefully, before folding his long coat beneath him and sitting down. "Better than you by the looks of it."

"Yeah well," she looked away. "You could say I had a rough night."

He gave her a good long look over while she stared into the distance, taking in her beat up appearance, the malnourishment and exhaustion evident in the gauntness of her face and body.

"Yeah well you think you've had it bad?" he said lightly. "I've had to deal with Buffy all week."

Faith turned back to him, dreading the answer to what she was about to ask, because neither answer was going to be good for her. But she had to ask: "Is she, like, really pissed off then?"

* * *

Buffy, having made it up to her hands and knees, was inching her way to the bedroom door, and there were about fifteen Pixies holding onto her pant legs and sleeves digging their heels in. Slowly she dragged them along, but it was very slowly. How the hell could things this small be so darn strong!

"Okay, I just want you all to know," Xander was saying from a safe distance, "whichever one of you bit me, isn't getting any more free beer."

"I need to leave." Buffy panted. "Right now! And you are not making that easy." She swatted at a Pixie riding on her head but he easily evaded her hand.

"You're holding me prisoner?" Willow was asking the Pixies standing on one another's shoulders in the doorway.

They all nodded, a couple said 'Yas'.

"In my own bedroom?" she checked.

There was shrugging and a few more 'Yas's.

"Right, you asked for it." Buffy flipped herself over onto her back trying to knock the Pixies off or squash the ones that didn't move fast enough.

They scattered like a ripples in a puddle, all shouting at her, except for one little muffled 'Yeep!'

Buffy scrambled to her feet and a dazed Pixie was revealed, swaying slightly and rubbing his face. Ten Pixies threw themselves at Buffy's head, taking her screaming back to the floor.

* * *

Giles along with everyone else in the living room had been in a stand-off ever since the Pixies had first appeared, but at the first sounds of a struggle above them, he ran for the stairs by the front door only to come face to face with sharp knitting needles after only a few steps. Two of the little beings were hanging by the their feet from the ceiling fan, even upside down they looked pretty menacing and their needles were certainly just as sharp.

He tried to swerve around them, aware that both Kennedy and Vi were also on the move. His feet became caught in something and he looked down to see what. He was already falling as he spotted the bright pink wool wrapped around his ankles.

He swore as he hit the floor and his glasses bounced off of his face.

Vi had gone running for the stairs at the same time as Giles, she managed to get closer, but more of the Pixies were waiting for her four steps up on the mini square of landing between the living room and the right turn to the upper floors. They were barring her way, holding high a bunch of needles, waving them around and jeering her. She couldn't jump over them without a run up, so cursing; she backed into the living room again.

Kennedy went for the back stairs, hoping everyone else was too busy concentrating on the front to notice. As she was about to dash through the open kitchen door it was slammed shut, smacking her in the face and landing her on her butt a few feet away. She sat there shaking her head in a daze.

Goorzah had gotten over-excited the second chaos has erupted and was now jumping up and down on Andrew and Dawn preventing them from doing anything but clutch at the bruises she was inflicting in her animated joy.

* * *

Hearing the noise from downstairs spurred Buffy on and she forced herself to flip upright despite the Pixies still clinging to her. She made a slow motion run for the bedroom door yelling:

"You guys need to get to Faith. Go! She's somewhere near and she's in trouble!"

There was no answer from downstairs and Willow and Xander didn't seem to know what to do for the best.

"No way is she getting away that easily!" Buffy yelled. It came out muffled as she was tackled to the floor again. "If she thinks getting her ass killed will save her from facing up to her responsibilities, she's got another think coming…" A Pixie landed in her mouth, only just scrambling back out before she bit down angrily. "Ow, MY LIP!" The Slayer howled.

**

* * *

**

"I don't know if she's pissed off, as such." Angel reached into his deep pocket and pulled out a bag of blood. "Do you mind? I haven't eaten since lunchtime, didn't think it would look good drinking this while walking around…and around." He grinned at her. "Did you think walking in circles would get me off your tail?"

Faith's nose wrinkled and she ignored his question seeing as she'd had no clue she was going in circles anyway, or that he'd been on her tail; she'd just been walking. "No, go ahead. I don't suppose you got a fancy way of putting some of that inside me have you?" She couldn't seem to stop shivering.

"Only the old fashioned way and somehow I don't think you'd like it." Angel changed and bit into the bag, turning away from Faith before he drank it down. When he turned back, Faith was looking even more grossed out and she'd gone pale. "Sorry, I didn't think it would bother you so much."

"S'okay, I was queasy before you started slurping away, it's just, I'm hungry and seeing you eat is making me hungrier and you're eating blood so now I'm gonna puke." Faith swallowed hard.

"I'm sorry. I'll finish it later." Angel quickly hid the blood-bag.

"No Angel, I mean now I'm gonna puke – move!"

He was up and out of the way as Faith fell onto her elbow, leaning over and retching hard.

Her empty stomach had nothing to give but acid and bile which made her throat sting.

It had been a couple of days since she'd had a decent meal and her fast working metabolism hadn't slowed down. The evenings slayage had maxed her hunger and coupled with the blood loss she was feeling really shaky and out of it.

And on top of all that she didn't know how to feel about Angel showing up. Was she pleased or was she pissed? Both, neither? What did it matter now? He was here either way. She had to admit it didn't totally suck having someone there; she just would have preferred it not be Angel seeing her when she was so messed up.

It was his turn to look grossed out although he smiled when she looked up at him. "Are you okay?"

Faith spat before answering. "Yeah, just been one hell of a week." She sat up again against the wall. "Anyway, what do ya mean you don't know, either she's pissed at me or she's not?"

**

* * *

**

All of a sudden the panic flowed out of Buffy a lot quicker than it had built up and the struggle went out of her just as quick. She didn't know what had just happened to put Faith in enough danger that Buffy could feel it, or even how she was able to feel it, but that mattered less than the deep down knowledge that her sister-slayer had survived it.

She slumped on the carpet with several Pixies still hanging from her and started to cry. Relief and frustration, a weird combination at any time, both working to bring on the waterworks she'd stubbornly held inside all week.

The Pixies couldn't have jumped off fast enough. All but the ones blocking the doorway were on the bed again in five seconds flat, most lying with just their heads peeking over the edge so they could watch her.

Xander dropped to her side again and Willow, after harrumphing at the pyramid, also joined them on the floor.

"I'm okay." Buffy sobbed, with her hands over her eyes. "She's okay now."

Xander and Willow looked at each other uncertainly.

"How did you know she wasn't before?" asked Xander.

"I don't know."

"But, but she's okay now?" Asked Willow as confused as Xander.

"Yeah, I think so." Buffy scrubbed at her face with the back of a hand and sat up, fixing her bloodshot eyes on the Mawther still standing on the brass frame of Willow's bed. "What the hell was that about?"

Beryan looked back calmly. "It was not my doing. Perhaps your Faith was speaking with you telepathically. It can cause alarm when you are not used to it."

"Not Faith. I mean why did your soldiers attack me like that?" she demanded, getting to her feet.

"They thought you were trying to leave."

"I was trying to leave." As she took a step closer to the end of the bed a Pixie rose up threateningly in front of her. She gave it her best glare and it shrank back down to the quilt. "Why were they stopping me?"

Beryan drew herself up to her full eight inches. "Because we don't want you to leave, Giglet."

**

* * *

**All three girls in the dormitory had stopped any movement. They all had crossbows pointed at places where they could do the most damage. Rona had two, one pointing in each ear. Alison had one pointing at her nose and Naomi had four of them all trained at her throat, every time she gulped she felt them pricking her soft skin. 

"Can we help you?" asked Alison, tilting her head back further.

"Yas, waalk tow tha baak oof tha room." said the little menacing guy holding onto her scarf.

"Why?"

"Because theen aye woon't shoot thees stick up yowr nosel."

Alison thought about it for a few seconds before nodding her head, something she instantly regretted when something sharp stabbed her nose. "Good answer." She turned slowly towards the back wall, briefly making eye contact with Rona, and walked towards the end of the room. "Here?"

"Yas." The Pixie with the crossbow stayed, but all the other beings that had been clinging to her clothing, jumped off and disappeared.

"Now yew." The voice right by her ear made Rona jump, she'd been so engrossed in watching what Alison was doing.

"Me now what?" she asked defiantly.

"Baak wall, oveer theer."

Rona had to turn her head to see that he was pointing to the same wall as Alison, but a bed away so they wouldn't be next to each other.

"Tell me why first." She insisted, not moving.

"Becaase he saaid so." said the Pixie on her other shoulder, pricking her earlobe with his crossbow bolt.

When she still didn't move there was the click-snick of the tiniest safety catch in the world being released.

"This is ridiculous." she spat. "You're six inches high!" But she went and stood where they wanted her too anyway, shaking her head. As before with Alison, every Pixie not aiming a weapon at her jumped off and ran away.

"Oi Watchoor!"

Naomi looked down at the voice by her feet. She'd been wondering when they'd get around to her. "Yes."

There was a stout Pixie looking up at her, he was a little taller than the others and wore an official costume, where as the rest of them wore only trousers that fell to just below the knee.

"You know who we are?" It shouted up at her, it's English far better than the rest too.

"You're Piskies. We have you in Britain." she told it.

"We're all British, yow silly Giglet." It sighed like he didn't know what to do with someone so stupid.

"What do you want from us?" Naomi asked, sounding a whole lot more confident that she felt. She'd heard Piskies were a peaceful race, which didn't fit into her current view of them, but more importantly she'd heard they'd been extinct since the early twentieth century.

"Don't want the Slayers." The uniformed Pixie told her gruffly. "Just you. Been told to take you gently, Giglet, but I don't mind if you fight." He pulled a small shiny sword from a scabbard tied around his waist. "I don't mind at all."

"She's not going anywhere." Rona called from her place by the wall. "This is crazy. If you've got a beef with her, sort it out now so we can get on with what we're supposed to be doing tonight." The needle-like tip of whatever these guys were using as bolts jabbed her ear again and she shook her head irritably.

The Pixie on her right shoulder was smacked by a couple of braids and nearly fell off.

Alison burst out laughing and then yelled in pain as her nose got pierced for her. She grabbed the Pixie on her scarf tightly in her fist, yanking him away, as her eyes watered madly.

"Frikking hell," she cried as the Pixie bit her hand.

As Naomi automatically turned to see what was going on, the little soldier at her feet yelled: "Don't shoot!" to the four Pixies aiming for her throat. She felt relief for a second that at least he didn't want her dead, yet, but it was short-lived as out of nowhere six tiny grappling hooks imbedded themselves in her clothes and she was yanked from her feet.

* * *

The boy's dormitory had been in chaos ever since Reece had been knocked out.

Peter continued to yell as cocktail sticks were shot into him from all sides and Rajiv had knocked him to the floor, yelling at him to get under a bed or something as he'd dived towards Reece.

The self-confessed and un-contested leader of the Watcher cadets was out cold and the thing that had done it was still swinging in the doorway on a length of string, cackling madly to itself.

Rajiv shook his head hard, now was not the time for hallucinations. When he looked again the thing was still swinging and still cackling. He started sweating. This was bad!

_Think man, think!_ Running a shaky hand through his dark hair he yelled, "Shut up!" at Peter who was still whining, and grabbed Reece's shoulders. He started dragging him further into the room.

Miley would just have to wait a while and not get eaten by the purple thing hanging in the doorway.

Suddenly the thing hanging in the door was the least of his worries as more purple things started coming out of the woodwork.

"Okay, that is definitely the last time I do anything that's got red spots, I promise, just…" Rajiv vowed to any deity listening as he watched the swarm of purple heading his way, trying to keep his panic in check. "…just, please let me come down…like now."

He blinked rapidly, almost hugging Reece's upper body as his prayers weren't answered.

"What's happening?" Peter shouted from under a bed.

"I have no idea, man." Rajiv yelled back.

The purple things had started pulling on Reece's feet hard enough to pull him away from his grip. He tried to keep hold of him, but it was futile and the other Watcher was pulled entirely away, his head bouncing on the floor as it slipped from Rajiv's arms.

"Reece!" He started to get up and give chase when a…something smacked him on the head and made him fall back again. Slightly stunned he looked at the object as it hit the floor and rolled away. It was a tennis ball, or at least it looked like a tennis ball; his mind was currently unravelling fast!

Peter rolled out from under the bed at the shout of Reece's name; he'd mostly gotten the cocktail sticks out of himself, but was still looking pale. As he saw Reece being dragged away his first thought was to go grab him, but on seeing what was doing the dragging he stopped up short.

"Piskies!"

"What?" Rajiv asked, looking from Reece to the tennis ball to Peter. "You mean they're real?" he gestured at the small purple beings. "Thank God for that."

"Don't go thanking him yet." Peter ran forward and grabbed one of Reece's wrists, trying to pull him back through the doorway he was being carried out of fast. "They're evil little blighters."

"I thought they were alright, yuh know, just helpers an' that." Rajiv, sanity back intact, went to help Peter.

Before he could, a Pixie jumped high off of Reece's chest and head butted Peter between the eyes. He fell back into Rajiv who landed back on his arse with Peter on his lap.

"See," Peter said woozily as his lights began to go out.

By the time Raj had untangled himself, Reece was gone and he and Pete were surrounded by the Piskies.

* * *

Buffy stood with her hands on her hips

"Why can't we leave?" she demanded again.

Beryan remained silent.

"Do you think you can stop me if I really want to leave?" she demanded next.

"I believe I just did Buffee."

Okay, well she had her there, except last time she hadn't been ready. Now she was ready she bet she could leave just fine if she wanted to. Buffy looked down at all the Pixies lying on the bed. They looked pretty scared of her anger, but none of their bright indigo eyes left her for a second. If she so much as feinted towards the door they'd be all over her again in a flash; and she hadn't enjoyed it all that much the first five times.

She looked to Willow: "I thought you said they weren't evil?"

"We are nawt eevil; we are simplee protecting ourselves." said Beryan.

"You attacked me and you're keeping us hostage. Not to mention you once set killer plants on us; I think it's us that need protecting from you. " Buffy fumed.

"I haave not acted without counsel, Buffee. Wee haave been watching the Watchoors all week. They haave not changed. They are still cruel. They are still conceited and arrogant. They are still stupid and vain. They still lie and they still sneak around. They caannot be trusted!"


	4. Act 2:2

Something really weird was going on at Sunset Camp tonight, and Craig didn't have a clue what.

As far as he knew still no one had left on the werewolf patrol and there was shouting coming from all sides; he could even hear Goorzar squealing from somewhere deep in the house.

When he'd first heard the baby demon he'd been concerned for her, well mostly for Andrew, and then he'd heard a muffled scream coming from the girl's dorm and he knew Naomi was in there and he'd nearly gone running to the rescue.

Common sense, or something masquerading as it, took over. Everyone else was busy with who knew what meaning this was the perfect time to do his little bit of burglary.

Ignoring the shouting now coming from the boy's dorm he stood up and looked through the window to the magic room. There wasn't enough light to see inside but he could just make out the broken catch sticking up into the air. Bingo, he thought he'd spotted that Friday.

Carefully he felt around the bottom of the window, trying to get his fingers to grip the edge. The first couple of attempts to pull it upwards made his fingers slip on the old wood and he worried about splinters digging into him, but it didn't happen and on the third attempt it started to slide jerkily upwards. More from will-power, he was convinced, than any physical accomplishment, he got the window high enough to squeeze through and silently boosted himself in; he had learnt a few things in his year at the Watchers Academy.

Jumping down from the desk, which thankfully hadn't tipped or rattled, he was soon standing in the Magic room. He took a minute to get his rapid heartbeat under control before pulling a candle stub from his pocket and only then realised he hadn't thought to steal anything to light it with.

Damn. He couldn't put the electric light on. No matter how busy the rest of the house was, a light suddenly going on in a locked room might give something away.

He went back to the desk and searched around for a box of matches, surely there would be some? Thirty seconds later his fingers closed around a cheap plastic lighter, even better. He was calm now and his hand didn't shake at all as he lit his candle stub.

Once the flame was flickering brightly he lifted it high and turned around on the spot as he let his eyes run over every shelf.

"Now the hard bit," he murmured to himself as he set to work finding what he needed.

* * *

Reece opened his eyes, against the wishes of his headache, and looked up at the clear night sky. He was pretty sure the stars he could see were on the outside of his head, but that begged the question of: What on Earth had happened to him? 

The last thing he could remember was being in the dormitory, upright and stationary. So now that he was outside, on his back and yet somehow moving along, he could only conclude that he'd been out cold for a few minutes at least.

It would have been nice to get up and see what was going on, but the way his arms and legs were seized made that an unlikely occurrence. He could do nothing at present but lay there as he was, supported on all sides by whatever had attacked him and taken to wherever they wanted him to go.

"Peter?" He called out, hoping that at least he wasn't being carried off alone. "Raj?"

"Shaad aap."

He ignored the foreign voice. "Rajiv, are you there? Pete, did they get you too?"

Something sharp and multi-pronged stabbed him in the cheek, drawing blood. "Ay saaid shaad aap."

Sighing impatiently, Reece shut up.

He was being carried into taller grass now, going at quite a steady pace and he still had no idea what he was being carried by. Aside from a flash of purple seen flying towards him in the doorway, it could have been ghosts. Except a ghost would probably just…

Ghosts were a mystery even to the Watchers Council, they were there, and they weren't there. Reece had no idea how one would act, he'd never met one, but traditionally they haunted a person or place. They did not knock a person out and carry them into the woods. Which he noticed with some alarm as dark tree branches came into view overhead, was exactly where he was being carried.

Reece knew there were only a couple of wooded areas on Sunset Camp. The front drive was edged on both sides by trees and tangles of vegetation before it reached the spacious grassy front garden. There was another area to the north and east of the property where gradually the land became immersed in forest. He'd been that way on a Patrol with Kennedy earlier in the week and she had told him that further on, as it became hillier, there were caves and tunnels that were largely unmapped.

As he was taken further into the trees, they were blotting out the stars completely now, he had little hope his destination would be somewhere he wanted to go, but please, he prayed silently, don't let it be unmapped caves. Rarely ever did good come from people being lost in caves.

His prayers, for once, were apparently being answered. A few minutes later he was dropped to the ground. Trying immediately to jump up and turn on his attackers he found he couldn't. He managed to sit up and watch as four or five beings wrapped rope thicker than their waists around his ankles and up his legs.

"Piskies," he sighed; he should have known.

'_Wherever there was trouble you would find a Piskie_' his grandfather used to say. Of course the old boy hadn't always been right, for example there had been no Piskies around the night he'd been blown to pieces by the explosion at the Council.

A lasso fell over his head and shoulders and was pulled tight from somewhere behind him, causing him to fall backwards. He spat out leaf mulch as he was turned over and fought against the beings trying to pull his hands behind his back. It was futile and soon his wrists were tied as securely as his ankles.

"What exactly is it that you want?" he demanded of them.

"Yow oot!" A Piskie standing in front of his face answered in his ancient Briton dialect. Reece could remember his Granny reading to him from a fairytale book when he was small; she'd always translated the dialogue into Piskie speak because it made him giggle.

"Me out specifically?" he asked.

"Naw yow seelf-importas dundlehead, aal yowr unreamed kith."

"Who do you think you're calling filthy, you short-arsed Drazac-croony!" His Granny hadn't taught him that one. The punch he received on the tip of his nose as a reply made his eyes water, but he smiled anyway; he loved languages.

Before he could show-off his Piskinese anymore he had an apple shoved so hard into his mouth that it stuck into his teeth and wedged his mouth open wide. He wouldn't be calling for help then, by the looks of it.

The Piskies disappeared from sight.

Trussed up as he was, Reece couldn't do a lot. The apple in his mouth made him wonder if he was to be cooked. Although as far as he knew the little creatures weren't cannibals, he was certainly no expert and maybe they were different here than in Britain. They were certainly acting like the little savages the old boys talked up to be tonight.

A muffled moaning sound behind him had Reece wriggling around until he could turn his head enough to see what was causing it. Twigs and leaves caught in his hair and stuck to his face and his mouth was starting to ache from the apple but eventually he could see…

Miley. So that was worth the effort.

Anthony Milestone, three feet away and tied in exactly the same manner as Reece was, was trying to get his attention by whimpering around his very own apple. When he succeeded the boy didn't seem to know what to do next and slumped back to the ground, his glasses askew on his face, breathing heavily through his nose.

Reece would have laughed at him if he could have, as it was he made an amused sound deep in his throat and gave Anthony a sideways nod of the head in greeting.

'_Now what?_' he wondered.

* * *

Faith shifted her leg so that she could look down at the bite marks. "I thought the son of a bitch was gonna try and rape me, but it turns out my neck just wasn't good enough."

"May I," Angel gestured at her thigh and Faith hesitated. It was kinda high up, only an inch or so below her panties.

This was Angel though, if she couldn't trust him to do right by her, who was she gonna trust? She started moving her legs further apart so that he could get a good look at the fang marks, teasing, "You got a tight grip on the soul of yours?"

"I think so." He gave a small smile and then bent forward to look at the wound.

"There's not a lot of light." she said, trying to hide her discomfort. Discomfort at needing help, anyone's help, and discomfort at Angel peering at her like a gynaecologist with a wonky eye.

"I can see fine." He looked back up to her face, "He tore the skin quite badly, that's why it hurts so much, but it's already healing over. There won't be any infection; vampire mouths are pretty clean compared to humans…"

"Yeah, says the vampire."

Angel huffed a laugh. "If you're not convinced you can pour a little holy water over it, that'll kill any vampire cooties."

"All out of holy water. So why did he go for, ya know, there. I thought the neck was the big thing with you guys."

"It's tender, succulent, the blood's hotter." Angel explained. "Can take longer to kill someone if you do it right. You said he wanted to turn you?" She nodded. "Well if he had enough restraint, he could drink for longer with less risk of taking too much, plus, well," he shrugged sheepishly, "it's not the worse place to spend time, if your victim's a woman."

Faith laughed; she could believe that.

"So, what happened?" Angel asked, his tone becoming more serious than before as gestured at the dark room. "Did you come in here looking for a fight because Faith, you know better than trying to take on a nest alone, especially at night, which means this has to be about something else, am I right?" he asked, his voice going softer again.

"I was tired, Angel." Faith said truthfully. "Just really, really tired."

"Well we all get tired Faith, but that doesn't mean we get to give up."

"What?" Faith didn't understand, why was he going all shrink on her?

"…you can't throw it all away just because things are a little tough right now," Angel said gravely. "And anyway, you've done the hard bit now, right?"

Who was talking about giving up? She'd just wanted a place to crash until the morning. And things _were_ tough, hella tough and no, the hard bit wasn't done now. The hard bit was just starting – now, when she was out and free and could do whatever she wanted instead of stuck in a box living by somebody else's rules.

Yeah, now was definitely the hard bit.

"…And I thought you were serious about Buffy. That's why I had Gunn help Giles sort out the parole conditions." Angel went on. "If I'd known you were just going to screw her around I…"

Faith used the wall to drag herself to her feet and looked down on him. "You what, wouldn't have helped me? Shoulda known you were only doing it for your precious Buffy, Giles too, I bet."

She felt defeated more than angry, but she knew she didn't sound that way. She'd really thought that… It didn't matter. She could manage fine without him anyway. Sure he'd helped her a few years back, but then she'd helped him get Angelus back in the box and so they were even now, right? Time to move on.

"Faith." Angel stood slowly to face her, like he thought she might bolt like a rabbit if he moved to fast. Well he was wrong, she was gonna _walk_ away. She turned to do just that. "Faith," he tried again. "You know I would have helped you; that's not what I…"

"Forget it Angel, I know exactly what you meant. You wouldn't have had your lawyers working so hard to get me out if you'd known I wasn't gonna go to Cleveland and be a good little doggy for your girl. What, did you hope I'd keep her amused or something, that'd I'd be your stand-in?" Off of his look of confusion, she shouted: "Well why else would you want me to go there? I mean I get Giles' reasons. He wants another Slayer with some experience on the Hellmouth; that and those stupid tests he wants to do. But why you?"

"Faith, what's wrong with you?" Angel's dark eyes were full of concern. He looked like he wanted to put a hand on her shoulder, she stiffened and he thought better of it. "I had Wolfram and Hart help you because I believe, just like everyone else who knows you, that you can do more good out here than you could in prison, and that you're working hard to deserve your second chance, or you were." he finished with a sigh.

Faith looked away at the scattered boxes on the floor. "I still am."

"I didn't do it for Buffy; she didn't even know about it, remember?" He reasoned with her.

"Yeah whatever." She had to get out of there. She needed something to eat, some water would be good too – her throat still felt like shit.

"I thought you wanted to go to Cleveland," Angel wasn't shutting up; it was giving her a headache. "In fact I know you wanted to go to Cleveland, know how I know that Faith, you told me!"

She was feeling dizzy again since she stood up; she swayed slightly. How dare he come here lecturing her about doing the right thing? She _was _doing the right thing! Or at least she had been; she wasn't sure now what the right thing was that she was doing. Everything had been getting fuzzier as the week wore on. She shook her head to try and clear the gathering fog. If he wasn't gonna get gone, she'd leave, yeah that sounded like a good plan. She always had good plans, 'cept the one about going to Vegas.

"So what happened, what changed your mind?" Angel asked her. "Did you decide that maybe you're not in love with her after all?"

Now who was he talking about? It couldn't be Buffy, everyone knew she loved Buffy. When had she thought it was a good idea to tell everyone she loved Buffy? Actually it was Buffy that told everyone; Faith had just gone along with it because no one was believing her denials.

"It's okay if you did, you can't force yourself to have feelings that aren't there, but there are better ways to deal with something like that, than running away or getting yourself hurt." he went on, still in that same irritating half-lecturing, half-concerned voice.

"Really?" she asked sarcastically, turning to face him fully. "Then how come you didn't use any of them." That shut him up. "I mean, you decided you didn't love her anymore and then you just took off."

"I still loved her, leaving was just the right thing to do." said Angel quietly.

"Yeah, why, because it was for her own good right?" Anger burned away some of the fog in Faith's mind. "I bet she didn't see it like that at the time though, did she? In fact she probably thought you were a selfish prick at the time."

"So is that what you're doing Faith, running away for Buffy's own good? Because I think you know that's bullshit. I had no choice, you do. We may have things in common, you and I, but Buffy isn't one of them."

Well of course he didn't think so. He was Buffy's one true love; of course he thought he was special. She was just a bit of…of tension release – something to make the last few days in Sunnydale bearable, something other than the First that Buffy could focus on. Which was fine, good even, Faith didn't need to be tied down to anyone…

…hang on she'd forgotten her point and he was staring at her waiting for an answer.

"Screw you, Angel."

There that was an answer, a damn good one too. She sniggered to herself. Time to go now, while she had the last word. Always leave them wanting more.

She turned again, almost tripping over the empty boxes lying around.

"Faith!"

No, she wasn't listening to another lecture, she was outta here. Food and then bed, or a gutter would probably cheaper. She'd feel better once she'd had some sleep.

She shuffled through the almost pitch black room, heading for the slightly lighter darkness of the doorway.

It was blocked when she got there. "Faith you're not leaving, at least not alone."

"I don't need a wing-man, A." She told him wearily as she tried to push past his bulky outline.

Angel didn't move, even when she started pushing harder. She twisted and stuck a shoulder into his chest, trying to heft him out of the way. He swayed backwards ever so slightly, but that was all.

She stepped back feeling even more lost. Should she hit him? Her question wasn't a moral one so much as a 'Am I gonna stay on my feet if I take a swing at him?' one.

"You're not leaving," he repeated. Faith groaned; great he was gonna start talking again. "You've got no money and no place to go."

"I'm doing fine," she lied.

"You came in here looking to get yourself killed; I wouldn't have said that was doing fine"

"I wasn't looking to get myself killed." She looked up at him, feeling that flame of anger again. "What the hell makes you think that?"

"You came into a nest on your own at night with one stake. That spells suicide and you know it Faith; and it's not like it's the first time you've tried to escape from your problems this way…"

Angel fell backwards through the doorway into the corridor wall, blood dribbling from his nose.

Faith swayed a little from the force of her punch, but kept her feet, something she'd be thankful for after she was done shouting:

"How fucking dare you use that against me. I came in here to sleep and when I got jumped, I slayed. I didn't go looking to get dead and I certainly wasn't looking to get turned into a Vampire. That was your deal; and I don't need your condescending bullshit to know it was a stupid fucking deal to make. Whoa." She put a hand on the wall as she swayed again. "Head rush," she explained. "Where was I?" Where am I might have been a better question, her head was spinning like the fruits on a slot machine. "I'm not gonna make your mistakes Angel, not even the Buffy ones."

Angel falling back into the corridor had cleared the doorway and Faith stepped through and made her way towards the kitchenette.

She was walking into it as Angel, having moved wicked fast, grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her back. Turning in his grip, she struggled. It was a weak effort and as she pushed him back against one wall of the narrow corridor, she fell back against the one opposite.

"You can't stop me!" she insisted, panting and blinking to rid her eyes of the dancing black dots that seemed to have taken up permanent residence. "You can't stop me from walking out this door."

Angel sighed, glancing up at the ceiling in despair. "Faith, you're still not wearing any pants."

"Huh?" Confused she looked down to see what he meant, the black dots gathered together and attacked


	5. Act 2:3

Nothing much was going on in Willow's bedroom now. Xander sat on the chair while Buffy and Willow sat on the floor against the wardrobe. The Pixie pyramid was gone, replaced by the closed door and a few Pixies standing guard in front of it. Every five minutes a couple of little folk would disappear out of one of the windows and others came in. All the new ones reported quietly to Beryan in their native tongue before heading to whichever part of the room she told them to guard.

The three prisoners still hadn't been given a reason for why they were being held; at least not a good enough one as far as Buffy was concerned.

"Willow," Buffy whispered. "Can you teleport out of here?"

"Not really," she whispered back after thinking about it.

"Why not, I thought you could do that stuff by just tapping your heels together now?"

"Oh no, I could do it, I think, I just don't think it would be the best idea."

"Why not?" Buffy whispered again.

"Because I'm not supposed to be using Magick for personal benefit." Willow reminded her.

"This isn't personal benefit; it's for everyone's benefit." Buffy hissed.

"But they're not hurting us." Willow pointed out. "And they've promised they're not going to kill the Watchers, it goes against their beliefs. I think they just want to teach them a lesson."

"And you believe them?" Buffy asked sceptically.

Willow nodded.

"Xander?" she quietly asked for his opinion.

He appeared to be deep in thought about something as he regarded a close group of Pixies guarding one of the windows in case Buffy tried to jump out of it.

"You know, I think that's Gawen over there," he mused.

"So?" Buffy followed his line of sight, but she didn't know which one he meant.

Most of the Pixies looked the same to her. She could tell boy from girl by their clothes and the girl's tended to have just slightly longer hair, which didn't mean they had a lot of hair, just more than the boys. Individuals were still hard to pick out though. She knew Elowen, but Buffy hadn't seen her tonight.

"So I'm just wondering if he'd go get me a beer." Xander answered her. "Do you think he could get it in through the window without breaking the bottle?"

Buffy looked at him waiting for the punch line, except apparently there wasn't one. "I don't really care." she told him, leaning back against the wardrobe again.

Xander shrugged. "It'd probably just make me need to pee anyway," he twisted on the chair to face her and Willow again.

"How long have we been in here?" Buffy asked next. It felt like hours, even longer than the time she'd been cramped on the plane flying out to Los Angeles.

Willow looked at her watch. "An hour and ten minutes."

Buffy looked at her in surprise. "You're joking; it that all?"

"Unless my watch stopped."

Buffy sat in silence watching the Pixies for a while, she couldn't believe it had only been that long and she couldn't believe Willow didn't think being held captive in their own house didn't count as worthy of Magickal assistance. They didn't know what was going on in the rest of the house, she didn't even know if Dawn was okay. The noise from downstairs was almost cut off by the closed door, but a disturbance could still be faintly heard.

There was nothing she could do about it though, so Buffy just had to put faith in Willow's belief that the Pixies weren't out to kill them all. Plus Dawn had a couple of Slayers down there; maybe they'd do a better job against these things than she had.

And thanks a lot Xander, now she needed to pee!

* * *

Tonight was turning into a total nightmare as far as Kennedy was concerned and they hadn't even left the house yet.

After being almost knocked out by the kitchen door she'd sprung back to her feet and barged into it, shoulder first.

It barely moved, either in the few moments it had taken her to get her act together they had barricaded it shut, or there were fifty of the beings on the other side of the door pushing against it.

With a grim smile, she pulled the swing door towards her. Still nothing.

Or they could have locked it from the other side with the key that was always kept in the door. They should probably rethink that in future.

Realising there was no escape from the room that way, Kennedy turned back to see how everyone else was doing. Giles was nowhere to be seen; maybe he'd managed to get up the stairs. Vi had obviously given up on the stairs, and having used her run up to run for the front door instead, was being held off by Pixies holding their long thin spiky knitting needles. For every inch she gained a new spot of blood appeared on one of her ankles. If she backed up the Pixies on the landing jabbed at her through the banisters. She was saying 'ouch' a lot; and 'jeepers' for some reason.

"Vi, be more aggressive," Kennedy called to her, wincing a little at the shrill battle cries the Pixies were letting loose with. "Or at least be a little aggressive."

"Okay." Vi kicked out at the Pixies around her feet. They all moved too fast to be kicked but she managed to get a step closer to the front door without being stabbed.

Kennedy scanned around again, there were more than seventeen Pixies in here now, she was sure of it, counting was a little hard though with the way they moved so fast and kept going behind furniture.

Speaking of, Andrew let out a squeal and jumped from the couch with a Pixie attached to his ass. Kennedy would have laughed if in the next instant Dawn hadn't jumped up with her own ass-attached Pixie.

"Sit down!" Kennedy instructed, thinking fear of being squashed would make them let go.

"What so it can bite harder?" Dawn took care of the problem herself by reaching around and wrenching the thing from her behind. She made a face as it came free with a mouthful of pants.

Andrew was trying to copy Dawn, but without the oomph so Kennedy sorted it for him. Grabbing a heavy book from the coffee table next to the couch, she brought it around in a hard arc. The Pixie didn't see it in time and let out an 'Eek' as it was flattened against Andrew. Andrew yelled in surprise and pain as the little guy slid to the floor and lay there un-moving.

"Kennedy!" Dawn snapped at her.

Kennedy looked up from the motionless figure lying on the carpet. "What? They're attacking us!" Even so, she'd expected him to jump down before he could be spattered to Andrew's ass. What a bad way to go!

"Kennedy!" It was Andrew shouting at her this time and she looked to him to see what was so urgent.

"Okay," she breathed when she saw.

She'd pissed off the Pixies that was for sure. A bunch of them were lined up on the central coffee table and all of them were holding their frigging needles like javelins, poised to throw. "Down!" she shouted.

Before anyone could even respond to her command, Kennedy shoved Andrew hard enough to send him flying over the back of the couch, where he stayed. Dawn was complying even as Kennedy threw herself over the young woman, covering her body with her own.

A Pixie, probably the one who was still standing on top of the TV, shouted: "Fire!"

Half a dozen points of pain flared over Kennedy's back, a couple of the needles fell to the ground, a couple more became caught in her thick black sweater like they were trying to knit some more, but the last couple were thrown hard enough to stick an inch or so into her flesh. Kennedy shouted in pain and flattened herself further into Dawn.

There was a guttural shriek from somewhere in the room, but Kennedy had to wait for the throbbing in her lower back and shoulder to calm down just a bit before she could tackle the next problem.

"You okay?" Dawn was lying under her, looking up scared.

"Don't know yet." Kennedy admitted with a grunt, "but that's six less knitting needles they've got now." She pushed herself off of the younger girl and turned around to see what was going on.

Goorzar was going on.

Scratch that, Goorzar was really going on! Kennedy winced twice in quick succession as Dawn used her distraction to pull the needles free from her back, but her eyes never left the baby-demon.

Goorzar was leaping around the living room on a rampage, but at the moment it was difficult to tell if it was an angry one or a joyous one. In a wide sweep of her already quite long arms she brushed all the Pixies on the table to the floor, along with several newspapers and a half full mug of cold coffee. The mug hit the floor after the Pixies, splashing several of the dazed little ones with the sludge coloured drink.

Goorzar jumped onto the now empty table, looking wildly around for more havoc to cause. Directly above the baby demon two Pixies standing on the blades of the ceiling fan, took aim with their long, sharp needles. Chances are they wouldn't be able to penetrate her thick fur, but Kennedy wasn't taking any chances with her baby. She dove towards the wall and smacked the button to turn on the fan. At first the blades moved lazily, doing nothing but throwing off the Pixies aim, but within a minute they were going pretty fast and both Pixies were lying flat and holding onto the edges to keep from being thrown off altogether.

The fan ruffling Goorzar's hair set her off again and with another screech, she took off around the room batting at any Pixie that wasn't quick enough to scarper. For all that she wasn't fast enough to catch the more excitedly she gave chase.

Dawn had the presence of mind to pick up the splatted Pixie from the floor by the couch before Goorzar spotted him, but it seemed like the demon only wanted live prey anyway.

"Is it okay?" Kennedy asked, as Dawn looked him over.

"He seems to be breathing."

"Good." She didn't want to be responsible for starting a feud with the Pixies, but then considering what was going on tonight, it was possible the Pixies were starting one anyway.

Goorzar was going for the Pixies surrounding Vi now and a new wave headed towards Kennedy and Dawn. Grabbing a cushion from the couch the Slayer brought it around in a swift motion, catching the charging Pixies by surprise and sending them flying back across the room.

As soon as they landed they rushed her again.

Her pant legs were being tugged on from behind followed quickly by her sweater, before tiny hands could grab her ponytail Dawn was swatting at her repeatedly with a cushion of her own.

"Thanks," she grunted, knocking more Pixies back on their butts.

A gust of wind made Kennedy look up to see Vi running out of the front door. Good, she'd made it out. The door slammed behind her. Goorzar was jumping around with several Pixies hanging onto the long hair of her back. She was shrieking even louder than before as she tried to shake them off. As Kennedy ran over to help her there was a loud thump and a squeal from behind. Dawn had been swarmed by the Pixies and was now face down on the floor.

Kennedy stopped between Dawn and Goorzar for the time it took to decide Goorzar was better able to defend herself and while taking a step back towards her best friend she noticed the kitchen door was open again. When had that happened and more importantly why? Behind her the front door flew open again too and Kennedy was once more caught on the spot, looking back.

Vi stood in the doorway looking flustered: "Why am I running outside? What's outside?"

Okay that was a good point, except: "It's better than being in here?"

"Well let's get all of us out there then!" Vi ran further into the room, heading for Andrew who was still behind the couch. "How did Andy get knocked out?" she suddenly asked.

Crap, he must have hit his head when she pushed him. This was fast turning out to be another full moon Kennedy didn't want in her history books; was she lunar-cursed or something? If she was maybe Willow could break it for her when this was all over.

Willow, always present in the young Slayer's mind, surged to the front as Kennedy thought of her. Was her girlfriend okay? They'd seen nor heard nothing from the upper floor for a while, their own battle drowning out any sounds that might float down the stairs. If Giles had made it up then maybe he had gotten caught up in a similar fight in one of the bedrooms. A quick glance at the wooden stairs showed several armed Pixies still protecting them.

Willow could look after herself; Kennedy assured herself, she was the most powerful person in the house when she let herself be. And besides, she had civilians to keep safe from the Pixies unprovoked madness.

"Just get him outside as quick as…" Kennedy trailed off as she saw Vi go down to her hands and knees as five Pixies jumped from the bookshelf she was passing to land on her head.

"D, you okay?"

"Peachy," Dawn grunted as she struggled with her own set of six inch purple guerrillas.

It was impossible to fight them, Kennedy realised. Not only were they outnumbered, even with the Slayer speed she and Vi possessed they still weren't as fast as the Pixies. The only one having any luck was Goorzar, who was now doing somersaults over by the front door; the Pixies were getting dizzy and letting go of her hair. As they fell to the floor she was scooping them up in her hands and flinging them away.

"Git tha laas onen staanden, laads!"

Kennedy turned sharply to the voice, and so spotted the Pixie on top of the TV pointing straight at her. A flying Pixie hit the side of her head so hard that it bounced straight back off again. What the hell..? Pain blossomed out from the impact point just above her left ear. Another airborne little guy flew unerringly in her direction. They could fly? Since when? She ducked it and started across the room to see where they were coming from. Another flew up from behind an armchair, Kennedy ducked again but this one caught a hold of her ponytail and kicked its tiny feet right between her shoulder blades. It hurt way more than it should in proportion to its size.

The sound of big feet capering around let her know Goorzar was on the move again as Kennedy rounded the arm chair just in time to see a Pixie leave a spring-loaded ladle and mousetrap hybrid.

'_Huh_,' Kennedy thought, giving it a good look, '_that's actually pretty cool_.'

Two Pixies stopped in the act of winching the makeshift catapult back to a ready-to-go position and looked up at her guiltily. Kennedy kicked the contraption, sending the Pixie just climbing into the bowl of the ladle flying in a completely different direction to the one he intended.

Vi shouted in pain and Kennedy looked back towards her, realising that Goorzar had used her as a springboard to get up on the bookshelf, where more Pixies were about to jump onto the Slayer.

"Goorzar, NO!" The Slayer was already running as the book case started to tip forwards; the Pixie bounced against her back, pulling her hair with every step.

As the Pixies on the bookcase jumped to get away from the demon, Goorzar kicked off of the bookcase to jump after them. The heavy piece of furniture was rocked back against the wall and Kennedy was there to steady it before it could fall forwards again and squash Vi and Andrew.

"Do you get the feeling we're not winning," Vi panted as she got shakily to her feet, now Pixie free. They'd probably deserted her thinking Goorzar was doing their job for them.

"What's going on?" Andrew asked as he woozily came around.

"Frenzied Pixies," Vi helped him up.

"Dawn!" Andrew spotted her still struggling on the floor and went to help.

There had to be a way to gain the upper hand, to get control of the situation. Right now the Pixies had the power; Kennedy just had to work out how to take the power from them.

What was it though? What was driving them? And what could she take away from them?

At the moment the Pixies didn't seem to have any definite plan of attack, just a ferocious desire to immobilise the humans – the bigger humans.

The little leader on the TV was shouting more hard to understand instructions to his troops and Kennedy knew another assault was about to begin. Andrew already had them hanging from him as he tried to pull some off of Dawn. They hadn't bothered about him when he'd been unconscious though.

Goorzar knocked over the standing lamp in the far corner of the room, sending it crashing to the ground and breaking it. Pixies fled from her, hiding under furniture until she'd passed.

More knitting needles flashed over by the stairs – still guarded by three or four Pixies – and just as Kennedy's ears caught what sounded like foreign counting, a Pixie came flying up from behind the armchair proving they had the ladle catapult up and running again already.

"Dawn, Andrew – Play dead!" Kennedy shouted over the general confusion.

"Huh?" They both asked in unison. A catapulted Pixie landed on Andrew's head and he smacked at it, ending up hurting himself in the process.

"Just do it!" Kennedy shouted, really wishing she had a tennis racket to hand right now so she could volley a couple of those Pixies right back where they came from.

Dawn and Andrew shared a strained look before both of them dropped to the ground and lay as still as they could. A few moments later most of the Pixies jumped off of the pair. Some ran behind the arm chair, others went behind the TV and the rest scattered under various items of heavy furniture. The ones left behind stopped attacking and simply sat down on the motionless twosome; knitting needles were chucked to guards, but they just rested them across their knees in a non-threatening manner.

"So we all just lay down until they go away?" Vi whispered in Kennedy's ear.

"Maybe, you got any better suggestions?" Kennedy whispered back, her eyes darting around as she tried to see what was going on everywhere at once. "Did you see where Giles went?"

"No, I saw him fall over and then that was it. You?"

"No. Maybe he got up the stairs." Kennedy looked over at them and suddenly had bigger things to deal with. "What the hell?"

In spaced out rows of seven, and four deep, purple bowmen advanced towards the Slayers. The bows were three inches big and roughly made, but they looked perfectly serviceable to Kennedy. As did the cocktail sticks they were using as arrows.

"I think now would be a good time for us to do the laying down thing," squeaked Vi.

"They won't actually shoot," said Kennedy, wanting to believe it. Seven tiny arms pulled back as seven bows were tilted upwards. "Okay, I agree."

The Slayers dropped down behind the couch as seven sharp cocktail sticks stuck into book spines above them.

There was an 'Eek' followed by a splat as something hit a wall with some force and Kennedy risked popping her head up in time to see seven more cocktail sticks fired into Goorzar.

The demon stopped, looking shocked, and then she rose up on her stubby but powerful legs and ROARED… making Kennedy think twice about rushing to her rescue.

* * *

Hearing the spine-tingling noise from downstairs, Buffy was on her feet in a second, Willow was less than a second behind her.

"What the hell was that?" All the hairs were standing up on Buffy's body.

The Pixies looked at each other, scared, but they didn't stand down their guard.

* * *

As Goorzar leapt on the remaining archers, they fired their arrows into her chest, but it didn't slow her down at all. She smacked her big palms into them, knocking more than a few senseless. The rest scattered, but she caught them, grabbing them two or three at a time and throwing them into the walls with enough force to knock them out.

The sound of splats and growling overtook the rest of the noise in the living room.

Kennedy stood behind the couch watching and silently cheering her on as Goorzar dashed around the room with much more purpose than she'd shown before.

The Pixie on the TV was now screaming instructions at his soldiers trying to get them to attack the '_Biggars_' again. Kennedy grabbed a book from the shelf behind her and raised it to throw at the small leader. As she let fly a cocktail stick went through the skin between her finger and thumb, ruining her aim and stinging like a bitch. Not all of the Pixies were running, some were still up high enough to be safe from Goorzar's wrath and they were obviously still on the attack.

Dawn and Andrew were pretty vulnerable just lying out in the middle of the room too, but they realised it before she had to shout at them to move. The Pixies guarding them had realised how much they resembled sitting ducks and had already disappeared under the armchair, so the 'dead' were able to crawl to safety without distraction.

When all four of them were behind the couch, Kennedy looked over the top again and watched Goorzar going berserk.

"Where's Giles?" asked Dawn, worried.

"Don't know," Kennedy muttered. "But he's not in here, so he's probably safer than us right now."

"Are you scared Goorzar might hurt us too?" Vi's voice was all trembly. Kennedy could almost understand - that roar had been pretty frigging loud.

"Goorzie would never hurt us!" said Andrew adamantly.

"Just don't go painting yourself purple before she calms down." Kennedy watched as Goorzar, missing the Pixies guarding the stairs because they all hopped up a few steps, ripped the wooden tread completely free and brought it down hard on their new refuge. Luckily for them they all jumped over the side just before wood hit wood.

"Oh girl, that's coming out of your allowance." Kennedy murmured with a small grin.

She might as well be amused now; because she was gonna catch hell for that when Giles saw it. Kennedy and Andrew lived in constant fear that the proprietor of the camp would grow so sick of the baby's accidental (usually) destructive behaviour that he'd follow through on his threat to make her live permanently outside in one of the sheds.

Every Pixie was now either out of sight, unconscious or playing their own game of dead except for one. Goorzar fixed her deep orange eyes on the leader as he jumped up and down on top of the TV in anger – shouting gibberish at Goorzar and his defeated army.

Goorzar reared up again to her full height of two foot and opened her mouth wide.

"No more roaring, Goorzie," Kennedy said calmly and firmly.

She didn't know if she would be listen to or understood, or if the demon had reverted back to a completely wild state in the last five minutes never to be tamed again. She had to try though and as luck would have it, Goorzar heard, understood and turned her head towards her. The imminent growl turned to a kind of long drawn out crooning sound which sounded to Kennedy a lot like: "But Moooom!"

The Pixie leader realising it had just had a lucky escape took a flying leap from the TV, but Goorzar wasn't stupid and moved fast enough to pluck him out of the air. The captive bit one of her thick fingers and she shook him roughly before leaping over the central coffee table and heading for the stairs. From there she climbed up onto the banisters and jumped expertly up into the big old window above the front door.

Perching on the window sill she held the Pixie safely in her big fist and every time he shouted at her, she flicked his head with her long fingers making him curse. The dust in the window, which was really difficult to clean and so wasn't cleaned all that often, made the young demon sneeze several times, surprising her into almost falling; and covering her prisoner in slime. As the little Pixie shouted at her in disgust and fright, she recovered her balance with ease and hiccupped; clearly she was enjoying her game.

"Here Andy, take a look at this." Kennedy grinned, gesturing Andrew up from where he was still hiding behind the couch.

Andrew poked his head up enough to see that the melee was over and then stood up properly so he could see what Goorzar was up to.

"See I told you she was Baby Kong!" Andrew, who had been saying this all along, grinned happily at her.

Kennedy chuckled. "As long as she doesn't decide to eat him I think we have the advantage at last." She looked around at the mess in the living room. "Until Giles comes back and sees this anyway."


	6. Act 2:4

Giles had struggled for all his worth as he was bound shoulders to toes, but there were two of the little bleeders wrapping balls of the baby pink wool around his body at high speed and his struggles were in vein.

As he tried to call out to let someone know what was happening, a third ball of the fuzzy wool was pushed into his mouth causing him to gag. His glasses having fallen from his face were nowhere in sight.

When he was completely secured he was hoisted into the air on what he imagined was the creatures equivalent of 'one, two, three', and carried, as far as he could tell, towards the front door. Before they reached it however they stopped and he was carried back the other way again coming to a stop behind the sofa.

He tried to spit the wool out, still hoping to call for help, but it was soft and stuck to the roof of his mouth and his tongue in a truly horrible way that set his teeth on edge.

He regretted now, not making time to look up the Pixies since Xander had, in his own way, introduced him to one. He'd made a note to himself on the plane to Los Angeles, but there just hadn't been the time yet.

He remembered vaguely of hearing, when he was a little boy, something about a race called the Piskies which lived at the bottom of the garden and played tricks on people for forgetting about them. He and a friend of his had lain in wait, on summer nights, in the hopes that they would catch a glimpse of one of these fairy creatures, but they never had from what he could recall.

He'd asked his father for an explanation once, as small boys do, but the old man had 'ummed' and 'ahhed' and in the end had told young Giles that in actual fact Father Christmas had died many centuries ago and it was now his ghost that delivered the presents.

Giles, after spending several months trying to figure all of that out, had made up his own mind that Piskies were just a myth, like Father Christmas and Peter Pan apparently were; and that he shouldn't ask his father for advice when the man was trying to work.

Piskies, he now realised, could very well be the same thing as Pixies. This on the one hand excited the little boy in Giles, but on the other hand threw a bucket of icy water in the pit of his stomach. If this was the kind of trick they played on people that had forgotten about them, well…

Thought was interrupted as Andrew came flying over the back of the sofa to hit the bookcase and slide down unconscious. The Pixies, or whatever they were, moved fast enough that Giles was in no danger of being hit by the falling man, but if they were able to knock the chap out and throw him across the room, then that made their 'tricks' even more worrying.

The living room appeared to be in chaos, with everyone shouting at once, even the bloody demon was shrieking at the top of its voice, but Giles could make out frantic whispering from his captors, the ones by his ears at least. He couldn't make out the words they were using, although the accent reminded him of the people he'd met in the West Country while on school holidays. Whatever it was they were talking about, something was clear – they weren't happy about it!

Maybe their arms were aching from holding him for so long? He didn't bloody care what their problem was, but hopefully it would cause them to make a mistake and he could… what exactly – wriggle to safety like a bloody caterpillar?

Suddenly they were on the move so fast it was a wonder they didn't just make off with his clothes, leaving him behind. Through the swinging kitchen door they took him and then through the back door and out into the night.

As he was skimmed along only seven or eight inches from the ground he wondered what on earth they could want with him. As Giles understood it, these things had been living in harmony with Buffy and the rest for over a month, what had suddenly changed to make them so violently hostile and, again, why choose him as their target.

It was cold out here, he hadn't put a coat on yet and the air had an icy edge to it. The night sky was devoid of any protective cloud cover, leaving him a clear view all the way up to the full moon.

* * *

Eric Thomas was feeling real weird.

He'd known for nearly a month that he was going to turn into a werewolf tonight and that was sure weird enough but he'd expected it to be bad-weird.

It wasn't.

It wasn't every day he could jump from his bedroom window and run off down the street without even slowing down. Normally after an argument with his parents he had to sneak out, not tonight, heh, no not tonight.

He felt kinda bad about scratching his dad though, he hadn't meant to do that, it was just, well, he didn't like the feeling of being restrained at the best of times and that feeling was ten times more powerful now he was a wolf. He hoped he hadn't hurt him too much though, because that would suck.

He'd also been told, by the nice lady who had come by the hospital that he wouldn't be able to think like he regularly did. That he would think only werewolf thoughts and be driven only by werewolf desires. In other words that he'd be a savage beast.

He didn't feel particularly savage right now, well maybe a little.

The scent of a rabbit had him changing direction abruptly, cutting across the road and taking the back lane leading to the old train tracks. He didn't know how he knew it was a rabbit without seeing it, he just knew! Wow, that was kinda cool. Normally rabbit hunting took a lot more time and patience. Now he'd noticed the first scent, the other one hundred assorted fragrant trails that crisscrossed the rough ground back behind the town became obvious to him. The only drawback was that he couldn't carry a rifle with four paws, or fire one for that matter either.

Reaching the old train tracks that were half buried by long grass and weeds, Eric slowed his run to a steady jog and snuffled along the rusted metal. A bird, startled from its roost in a pocket of weeds, flew up right in front of him. The shock made the new werewolf sit back fast on his haunches, but shock soon gave way to delight and he took after the bird, giving little 'ruffing' barks of pleasure as he gave chase.

The bird, having wings whereas Eric didn't, got away easily. Unconcerned he continued to follow the tracks deeper into the woods, there was plenty more game out here somewhere and half the fun had always been the hunt, that didn't change just because he was a different species for a while.

A hulking black shadow hidden in the trees watched as Eric passed by. A muzzle, shorter, more pug-like than Eric's, but no less powerful lifted to scent the breeze of his passage.

Silently the shadow followed the young wolf through the woods.

* * *

Faith slowly regained consciousness, her eyelids flickered enough to be aware of faint light, but they closed again almost immediately. She lay still for a while aware only of her own breathing, the softness under her and the dryness of her mouth.

She didn't know if she drifted back to sleep again or not, but the next thing she was aware of was a cool wet cloth dabbing at her cracking lips. At first she pushed her head back away from the sudden sensation, but then relaxed once more; opening her mouth she touched her tongue to the cloth, so thirsty.

The cloth went away and Faith willed her eyes to open, but they refused for the time being. The cloth came back, this time placed over her forehead, cooling her burning brow.

"What year is it?" she croaked, hoping the joke wouldn't backfire on her.

"It's just been a few hours," Angel's voice was low, soothing, totally different from earlier.

"I feel like shit!" Her own voice was getting stronger now, but her throat still felt raw. "Where am I?"

"A motel."

Well that was better than a hospital. She croaked out: "Where?"

"You're still in Indiana."

Faith hadn't known she was in Indiana in the first place, but Indiana/Indianapolis? She supposed it made sense. How many States had she jumped in the past week anyway?

"Okay." She opened her eyes properly and Angel came into focus. "What happened?"

Angel shifted a little on the bed, as he reached over to a cabinet and picked up a drinks container with a bendy straw sticking out of the top. He held it in his lap as he spoke. "You fainted. My guess: because you're malnourished, dehydrated, exhausted, and obviously blood-loss from where you were attacked. On it's own I don't think you would have had any trouble recovering from that, but with all the rest of it too…"

"Go on."

Angel looked at her directly. "Whether you went looking for it or not, you could have died."

"Yeah well, it's lucky for me you were there then, isn't it?" Faith focused on the drink in his lap, wondering if it was blood or something she could stomach. "What's in there?"

"Water."

"Good." She pulled herself up against the pillows, Angel went to help her, but she waved him off. "I'm alright, feeling better already."

He sank back to the bed and when she was comfortable, he handed her the cardboard cup. "Just sip it to start with."

She nodded, fighting the urge to drain the cup the second the cool water entered her mouth. A cup of coffee had been the last thing Faith had drunk and that had been mid-afternoon, not long after she'd left the cemetery behind. It seemed like even longer ago than it was. The burning of her throat slowly cooled with the passage of the water and when a few minutes later the straw was only sucking up air, the pounding in her head had lessened too.

Angel stayed quiet while she drank, sitting on the bed, staring out of the gap left by the mismatch of the curtains.

"Got any more?" Faith handed him back the cup.

"You should eat something first." He stood and walked to a table against the far wall, picked up a big Happy Burger bag and brought it back to her. "It's not the healthiest option, but there aren't many salad bars open at this time of night."

"Rather have this anyway." She delved into the bag, pulling the contents out one by one. A couple of quarter pound cheeseburgers, a big bag of fries and a chocolate donut; not bad choices for someone who only ate liquid. "Thanks."

Ripping the wrapper off of one of the burgers, Faith tucked in, finishing it in six bites.

"I got you a coke too." He put it on the cabinet for when she was ready. "And I sent someone back to find your pants. They're fine; I put them over on the chair."

"Thanks," said Faith again, still chewing. _God, had she ever been this hungry?_ "I appreciate it. You didn't have to, not after what I said to you." She started unwrapping the other burger as she spoke, "I don't even know where that came from, I just…" Shaking her head, she bit into the burger.

"Faith?"

Faith put the burger down but took her time finishing her mouthful.

Finally, she began, "You're the one who believed in me Angel, who thought I could be better than I was. No one else, not B, not Giles, not even me – just you. Buffy could turn around tomorrow and say she never wants to see me again and the only thing that would stop me from screwing up would be letting you down. Do you get that?" She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "So yeah, finding out you don't believe in me any more was kind of a bummer."

Her eyes opened again as Angel took her burger greasy hand. "I still believe in you."

"Didn't sound like it." she mumbled, pulling her hand away. She went back to eating her burger to cover her embarrassment.

"Why did you run away, Faith?"

Faith finished her second Quarterpounder and pushed a handful of fries into her mouth.

Angel sighed. "I can't make you go to Cleveland, but you know what will happen if you don't?"

"Yeah," Faith smirked, although she wasn't really feeling it. "They hunt me down like a wild dog, lock me in a cage and throw away the key."

"And is that what you want?" asked Angel.

"Maybe it's what I need." Faith shrugged. "Maybe, I don't know, maybe I don't deserve this second chance just because you think I do. Would another lawyer have got the same result Gunn did?" she asked seriously. "I feel like I cheated, and I know I haven't changed as much as Giles thinks I have. I'm still capable of stuff that…that I don't want to be capable of." She thought about the blood all over her prison sweater.

"Another lawyer probably wouldn't have been able to find anyone to translate the Mayor's journal, so maybe you did have a better chance with Wolfram and Hart behind you, but that doesn't mean you cheated anything. Everything the Judge and Jury heard was true and they were the ones who made the decision to cut the charge from murder to manslaughter, not us." Angel explained, patiently.

"But wasn't his journal full of demons and stuff?" Faith had been wondering that since the trial. She hadn't heard any mention of demons in court, but hardly anything the Boss had been running was natural.

"They didn't care about the demons, all they were interested in were the deaths of Allan Finch and Lester Wirth, and they turned a blind eye to the rest or assumed the Mayor was insane as well as criminal," Angel smiled, adding, "Which didn't hurt your case at all."

Faith finished the fries and reached over for her coke. She drank half of it before setting the cup back down and resting back against the pillows, feeling better by the minute.

"I hear what you're saying, but for all the translations and Gunn's fancy talk I still murdered Lester in cold blood. I knew it was wrong and I did it anyway because the Boss asked me to and I don't know if five years in prison and helping to save the world is enough to make up for that."

Faith chuckled softly as she continued, "Maybe if I'd saved the world on my own or something, I'd be more sure about things, but right now…" she trailed off, staring into nothing over Angel's shoulder. "I don't know."

"This is about the inmate, isn't it?" he suddenly asked, catching her off guard.

Faith's eyes moved sharply back to Angel's face. "Which one?"

"Machinelli. The woman you attacked the day before…" he began.

"I didn't attack her, she came after us!" Faith exploded, rising half out of the bed in anger.

"Say that again." Snapped Angel.

"I said: she attacked us!" Faith snapped back. "Stupid bitch wouldn't quit!"

"Us?"

"Janey. Lol stabbed her in the back – and I mean that literally." She emphasised before muttering, "I _knew_ you'd be like this!"

"And then what did you do?" Angel was almost leaning in her face now, "Hit her?" he asked with a dark, goading chuckle.

"Hell yeah, what else was I supposed to do Angel. I couldn't let her get away with that! Janey may be a Slayer, but she's just a kid too, doesn't even understand her own strength yet. She'd have let Lol kill her if I hadn't stepped in; and they had no intention of letting me get out of that bathroom alive either, just so you know." Faith fumed, throwing the bed covers back and swinging her legs out of the bed. "And I didn't do anything she won't recover from."

"So someone pushed you as hard as they could, stabbed a young girl right in front of you and was going to murder you in cold blood and yet you let her walk away?" Angel sounded surprised. "Why?"

"What else was I supposed to do, I couldn't kill…" Faith trailed off, staring at Angel.

"The only person who thinks you should still be locked up is you, Faith," said Angel quietly. "The sooner you realise that, the clearer things will be."

"She didn't walk away though, did she?"

"No but she's walking now," Angel told her. "A little uncomfortably, maybe," he added. "But walking."

"How do you know all this?" asked Faith, mystified.

He flashed her a cryptic smile and she rolled her eyes.

"Fine, don't tell me. Tell me instead how long you been following me without me knowing?"

"Just since this afternoon actually, well yesterday afternoon now. You were spotted in a bar two nights ago." He started pulling something out of his coat pocket.

"So that chick in the bar was working for you? The first one, I mean, the blonde shrink?" she thought about it a second. "Or was it the foxy European Vampire Bond-girl? If it was her, tell her I want my bag back."

Angel had been looking confused the whole time she was speaking, when she'd finished he said, "It was Agent Fryer, from Texas. He took these from across the street." He handed her some big glossy photos.

She took them and gave them a good look. Yep that was her walking across the parking lot of the place in Ogallala heading towards the entrance of the motel and that was the Vampire bitch that had gotten her drunk and tried it on. She didn't look so much like Halle Berry now Faith was sober but she was still wicked attractive.

"You'd vanished again before I arrived," Angel went on. "Then I got a call from Fryer saying he'd picked up your trail here – it didn't take me long then to find you." He tapped the side of his nose.

"You followed the smell of my blood?"

Angel nodded, smiling a little. "It's a useful talent."

"It's a nasty talent," Faith corrected as she stood up from the edge of the bed, testing her legs.

Angel shrugged. "Buffy never liked it either."

She knew he was waiting for a reaction to that, but she didn't give him one. Instead she concentrated on stretching a little, first one arm and then the other, one leg and then the other. A full stomach, a nap in a comfy bed and she was feeling as good as new. Well not as good as new, but better than she had in a few days at least.

She walked to the chair her pants were draped over, pulled them on and fastened them before turning back to Angel. He had stood up when she had and although he looked just as casual as he had a moment ago with his hands in his coat pockets and a smile on his face, Faith knew he was deliberately standing between her and the door.

"Are you leaving?" she asked as she climbed back onto the bed and snagged the chocolate donut she'd put to one side earlier.

"I, ah, no?" he stammered, probably feeling a bit stupid now, which had been Faith's intention.

"Good then." She grinned at him as she bit a chunk from the donut, chewing it up and washing it down with a mouthful of coke. Her throat was feeling much better since she'd eaten too.

He sat back down on the edge of the bed, his hands still in his pockets. "Your parole officer will be in Boudenver tomorrow."

"Yeah that came round fast."

"Buffy spoke to her on the phone Thursday evening."

The donut stopped halfway to Faith's mouth. "Really? What did she say?"

"The parole officer or Buffy?" Angel asked.

Faith shrugged, "Both."

"I don't know."

"Really." Faith repeated mostly to herself. She took another bite of her cake, but didn't really taste it as she chewed. Buffy wouldn't have ratted her out, would she? No way, not unless she was _really_ angry. She thought back to Buffy's visit to the prison and knew there was a high chance that Buffy _was_ really angry. "Shit."

What if Buffy didn't even want her in Boudenver anymore?

This wasn't exactly a new question; Faith had been asking herself the same thing pretty much since she'd learned her new release date. It had been a pretty big factor in Faith's decision to run in the first place if she was honest, to avoid the rejection she was scared was coming her way. It hadn't occurred to her at the time, at least not on a conscious level, that she was sealing the deal by running.

"What's the point of going there now?" she wondered aloud.

"Did you mean what you said?" asked Angel, "About being okay if Buffy never wants to see you again?"

Faith's loud sigh had a tired air of amusement. "No, I don't know, probably not." Angel wasn't looking too happy with that so Faith added, "I'm not going to start killing people to mask the pain or nothing, A, I just…What do I do?"

"Your place at Giles' Slayer-school isn't subjective to Buffy's feelings for you or vice-versa." Angel explained.

"Huh?"

"You're welcome there whether you and Buffy decide to have a relationship or not."

Faith could just imagine how comfortable that would be! She and Buffy weren't exactly good at getting along whatever their situation and it was pretty much to be expected that if they weren't screwing they'd be scrapping. Could she live with that? Could she live without trying?

Something else occurred to her as she looked up at Angel sitting passively in front of her. "How come you're so cool about me and B having a," -she made finger quotes- "'Relationship' – I heard you wanted to hang Spike out in the sun for touching her."

"Spike is…" Angel sighed so deeply it sounded almost like a growl. "Spike!" he finished with a weary shake of his head. "And I've had time to get used to the two of you together."

"I haven't," Faith sighed. "I didn't let myself believe I'd get out until I was actually out of those gates and then…and then it was all too freakin' much, ya know?"

Whether he knew or not, Angel nodded along.

"I didn't know what to say to her, I still don't know what to say! She's got it into her head that I love her, maybe she's right, but I don't know how to do that, not up close anyway.

"I spent years telling myself I hated her just so I wouldn't have to deal with the other thing and…and I never thought I'd have to deal with it, not even when I went back to help with the First. Didn't even cross my mind. I only _kissed_ her because I wanted to mess with her and then it all just got way out of hand." Faith chuckled but her eyes implored Angel for help in understanding it all.

"Don't you want her to love you back?" he asked gently.

"Sure I do, I guess, but I'm just gonna screw it up. I'm already screwing it up! And what about the others?" Faith asked, finding it easier to keep going now she'd started to talk. "Willow, Xander, Dawn? – It's not like they think they're in love with me – they shouldn't have to put up with my shit again too."

"I think you're underestimating them, Faith. I'm not saying it'll be easy, but they'll accept you once you've worked through your issues with them. And as much as Buffy loves her friends, she isn't ruled by their opinions – I'm living proof of that."

Faith rubbed at her left shoulder, still sore from the fight, considering all that he'd said. Eventually she looked him the eye again. "So what you're basically saying is 'Cut the bullshit and get your ass to Cleveland?'"

"Well that was what I was basically saying about six hours ago, but then you went and almost died on me and I figured you had some stuff to get off your chest, what with you punching me and all." Angel smiled, "Now I'm saying: I have a car, can I give you a ride some place?"

Faith opened her mouth to accept, but hesitated, changing her mind, "Uh, no thanks."

Angel's face fell. "Faith, I understand you still have concerns, but whatever happens between you and Buffy, you _have_ to be in Boudenver when your parole officer gets there!" he snapped in exasperation.

"I know that Angel I'm not stupid," Faith hopped off the bed and popped the last chunk of the donut into her mouth.

Angel was looking at her like she clearly was stupid.

"Fine," she said when she got to the door, "If it'll make you happy, give me a ride to the bus station, but then I'm on my own again, got it?"

Walking out of the motel room into the night, she left the door open for Angel to follow her. She'd take that ride, seeing as she had no idea where the nearest Greyhound station might be around here, but she hadn't roughed it across half the country just to take the easy way out on the home stretch.


	7. Act 2:5

"Nai!"

Rona and Alison both seemed to shout the trainee Watcher's name at once as they saw her fall to the ground.

Pixies came out from under the beds to try and engulf them as the two of them ran to her. Naomi was being carried to the door and it began to open as a Pixie pushed on it from the outside.

"Help?" Naomi asked, trying to stay calm as she craned her neck to see where she was going.

"We're trying," Rona promised jumping over knitting needle wielding soldiers. They stabbed them upwards, but she sailed cleanly over the top and landed by the door. There was a frustrated "Yip!" from the other side as she slammed it closed.

Rona looked down at the halted Watcher kidnappers in front of her. "Put her down right now." She said.

"Naw," came the simple reply and before she could argue further, a woollen knitted noose landed over her head and shoulders.

Rona struggled but it was quickly pulled tight and she could only watch as the door started to inch open again. She was pulled back a few feet nearly hard enough to land her on her ass, by several Pixies hauling on the rope.

"You're tying me to the bed?" she shouted angrily, after twisting around to see what they were doing.

They were.

"I got it!" Alison called out.

Rona watched her dodge a couple of Pixies on the ground as she dashed towards her. Something metal in her hand flashed, reflecting the bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, Rona couldn't make out what it was until Alison was diving towards the knitted rope and snipping through it.

Tiny little travel scissors!

"Sweet!" Rona praised Alison's quick thinking as pulled the loosened noose over her head and dropped it onto the Pixies at her feet.

Alison had landed on the floor after her dive, the scissors still held out in front of her as she slid along the scrubbed wooden floor. "Nai's halfway out the door!" she squealed as a dozen Pixies attacked her with the long thin needles.

"Damn," Rona watched Alison get repeatedly jabbed for a split second, as long as it took to make up her mind that the wounds were meant to annoy and distract not kill the other Slayer, and then she went after Naomi.

Catching up with her just outside the door, Rona grabbed both of the Watcher trainee legs' by the ankles, reversed and pulled her back into the dormitory. She smiled grimly as all the pixies carrying Naomi shouted their surprise at being suddenly yanked backwards off of their feet.

"How do you like it?" she asked as she hauled Naomi and several Pixies all back through the door before the little devil-imps could get their balance back.

"Not much!" Naomi admitted.

Rona smirked as she made it past the threshold and turned slamming the door shut again.

Naomi used the time she had before the Pixies regained their feet to bounce to her own. "That wasn't much fun," she panted as she brushed herself off, not realising the grappling hooks were still imbedded in the back of her sweater.

Rona checked on Alison, dismissing Naomi now she was free; the English girl was cool enough, but she wasn't a Slayer. The younger girl was rolling around on the floor writhing in pain and making some agonised yelping noise as the Pixies attacked her. Tears streaked down her cheeks despite her eyes being tightly shut and she apparently couldn't catch her breath.

"Make them stop!" The dark blonde Slayer wheezed.

Rona looked harder. The Pixies weren't even using weapons on her now; they were just using their hands. At first she thought they were pinching her really hard or something, but then she realised…

"Ally, they're tickling you!" Rona shouted in disgust, gruffly kicking the other Slayer's feet that were writhing together on the floor.

"I know," Alison wept. "And they won't stop!" She squealed as one of the imps used both of his tiny hands to attack her left side, the soft spot below her ribs.

"Oh dear!" Naomi felt herself being pulled over backwards again.

Rona turned just in time to see her hit the floor again. "Naomi," she sighed angrily, "would you cut that out for just a minute?"

As she was lifted six inches from the ground again, Naomi rolled her eyes. "I'm hardly doing it on purpose."

"You know, the only stuff I know about Watchers I learned from the stories the other girls in Sunnydale told all the time," Rona told her as she leapt over Naomi to slam her body into the door, preventing it from being re-opened. "I thought they were exaggerating just how hazardous you guys are to our health, but I spend five minutes with you…" she trailed off as she realised there were a bunch of Pixies in front of her, all with tiny bows and arrows pointing her way. "And look what happens!" she finished with a shake of her head.

"Move away from the door." It was the General-type that had threatened Naomi earlier.

Rona didn't see the point of asking "Or what?" 'Or what' was pretty clear to her. She looked around for inspiration, but came up with nothing. The dormitory was pretty bare anyway and with her back pressed against the door, she couldn't reach anything from the beds or their lockers.

Naomi was laying calmly in the Pixies hold, staring up at her Rona and waiting for the Slayer you save her again.

Alison wasn't being tickled anymore as all the Pixies in the room were watching, waiting for Rona to step away from the door. The dark blonde girl lay on the floor at the foot of the beds, looking worn out and still giggling occasionally although she was trying hard not to. Rona met her eyes for a few beats and shifted her head just slightly before she turned her glare back on the mini-archers.

Alison took some deep breaths to calm down and slowly sat up, stretching her neck. "You'd better do as they say," she began, getting just as slowly to her knees.

"Your Kith makes sense Warrior," the General told Rona, right before the lights went out.

Well they went out for him and all the archer-Pixies and several of the Pixies who had been tickling Alison, as she snatched a blue blanket from the bed on her right and chucked it over their heads.

There were shouts of confusion coming from under the blanket which only got louder as Alison darted forward and started smacking the blanket with a cheap foam pillow from one of the vacant beds.

"I meant drop a bed on them, not a blanket!" Rona wanted to go help hit them a few times, but couldn't leave the door. Naomi was still being held and the critters holding her would probably dart out the door the second she left it unguarded.

"We'll have to work on our face code sometime then," Alison grinned as she kept on whacking away.

* * *

Peter and Rajiv were doing their best to defend themselves as tennis balls and hazel nuts bounced off of them in a constant assault, in other words they were ducking down between the beds and covering their heads. Peter was glad they were no longer lobbing cocktail sticks at him, but when all was said and done, this was just as shit!

_Where were they getting all the tennis balls from?_ He looked up enough to answer his own question, the little buggers were catching them again as they rebounded off of him and Raj! They were the size of beach balls in ratio to the bastard's size but they caught and threw them again perfectly. The hazelnuts were even easier for them to manage and Peter got thwacked on the forehead by one before he could duck his head again.

"Christ!"

"We gotta get out of here, raise the alarm, innit." Rajiv flinched as a projectile hit the back of his head. "Like before they kills us!"

"Be my sodding guest," Peter gestured towards to the door as he tried to get himself under one of the beds again. He wasn't risking getting carried off like Reece just to save everyone else's arse, he couldn't see any of them running to _his_ rescue!

"Okay," Rajiv started to get to his knees.

"Raj, are you stoned?" Peter grabbed his friend's wrist, trying to pull him under the bed too although there wasn't enough room for them both. "Did you see what happened to Reece?"

"Yeah they took him!" Rajiv pulled his wrist from Peter's grasp. "And now they're gonna do who knows what to him. We need to, like, get him help or something, I don't know man…" he ran a shaky hand over his face.

"Fine." Peter slammed his hand down on the rough wooden floor in annoyance, before pulling himself back out from under the bed, a hazelnut narrowly missed his eye almost making him change his mind, but the following tennis balls bounced off of him softly enough to lend him courage. "Although I don't bloody see how getting carried off too is going to help him."

He was in a starters crouch now between the beds, squinting his eyes as he tried to ignore the objects still hitting him. Rajiv scrambled up quickly; surprised he'd managed to convince Peter.

"What?" Peter grinned at him. "You think I don't want some of the credit for saving his arse? Can't let you look too good mate." He winked at Rajiv.

"Like you could stop me." The young Asian snorted with a smirk, he nodded in the direction of the door, wincing as a tennis ball landed a direct shot on his nose, "Ow! On three?"

"On whatever you like mate, it ain't going to help us get out the door." Peter was pretty sure that as soon as they tried to leave, the Piskies would do to the two of them exactly what they had done to Reece.

The only reason he and Raj were still conscious right now was because they were staying put and looked defenceless. As soon as the two of them went on the offensive, they'd be demobilised fast. It was a stupid plan, but he didn't want everyone back home finding out he'd been cowering under a bed while Rajiv had made a heroic attempt at saving everyone's favourite cadet; better to go down screaming with him.

Rajiv counted quickly to three, his head nodding on every number, and both trainees took off from their crouch positions.

Peter was surprised they made it even half way across the floor, but it took that long for the Piskies to realise and change their aim, he took a ball to the balls before the projectiles started flying towards their faces again. He grunted in pain but managed to keep going straight through the mass of Piskies, they were all too quick to be trampled, but it broke them up enough to leave a clear shot for the door.

He and Raj reached the open door at the same time. Peter saw what was waiting for them and checked his sprint, "Watch out!" he tried to grab his friend's shoulder too late and Rajiv's foot caught on the trip wire across the exit and he fell to the grass outside.

"Shit!" Peter jumped over him, grabbing the collar of Rajiv's jacket as he tried to get him on his feet again. "Get up!"

"I can't," Raj grunted, "They've got my effing legs!"

Peter almost slid over on the damp grass as he turned to see. The trip wire, which was actually pink wool, was being wound around Rajiv's ankles, tying his legs together all the way up to his knees.

"For Christ's sake!" If Peter wasn't still being pelted with hard objects he'd be laughing over his mate's predicament. "Come on," he insisted, still trying to drag Rajiv to his encumbered feet.

A Pixie swinging out of the doorway on a length of string flew into Peter's face. Swatting at it angrily he let go of Raj and stumbled backwards, by the time he'd recovered Rajiv's arms were restrained by the pink wool too.

"I'm done for, man," Rajiv yelled rather dramatically, "Save yourself!"

"You're a bleeding nutter, you are!" Peter dodged a flying hazelnut and catching an airborne tennis ball, threw it back with all his strength and knocked a Piskie flat on his arse, "Have that!" he congratulated himself.

Leaning down he patted an increasingly pink mummified Rajiv on the back of the head, "I'll be back," he promised in a knock-off Austrian accent, and then took off across the grass towards the house.

A shower of cocktail sticks followed him but as they all missed Peter didn't even realise. It was only two hundred yards to the back door of the house, he could see the light coming through the kitchen windows and he put on a fresh burst of speed. The sooner he got to the Slayers, the sooner one of them could deal with this and he could take a fag break from all this action adventure shit.

He was halfway across the back lawn when he tripped on something and stumbled to his knees. _Were the little buggers out here an' all? _he wondered, scrambling back to his feet and looking around at the dark ground warily. Peter started for the house again a little slower thinking he must have tripped on something benign like a flowerpot.

A few steps away from the long rectangles of light falling on to the grass from the windows something cracked against his knee.

"Argh," he went down in a heap on the damp lawn, clutching his bashed knee and was hit again across the back. "Bastards!"

Wrenching away the thing the pest were using to hit him with - a tree branch, not long but thick and solid enough to hurt - he flung it as far as he could away from them and pushed himself back to his feet – third time lucky…

Or not.

Peter stopped running again as quick as he started and steadied himself as he took in the Piskies latest move.

Just inside the nearest rectangle of light, a line of Piskies held up their bows. All the arrows were pointing at him, of course, but they didn't look sharp enough to be concerned about, he stepped closer trying to see what they were made of.

Out of the corner of his eye he spotted another Piskie, almost hidden in the darkness beyond the reach of the kitchen light, suddenly dart along in front of the row of short-arsed archers, in his wake there was a fitzspr noise and the bulbous ends of the arrows sparked into flame.

"Bollocks!" Peter stepped backwards.

"Fire!" A voice shouted from the darkness.

Peter started to panic again as ten lit matches were fired expertly in his direction. Most went out as they hit him, and he jumped around patting at the ones that singed his clothing.

"Fire!" Another wave was fired.

A match struck his face burning his chin for just a second and Peter could definitely smell singed hair.

"Geet tha ball alight!" he heard from somewhere.

A match stuck in Peter's collar and caught his jacket on fire. One slap of his hand put it right out, but he'd had enough of this bollocks now. If they were going to start lobbing burning tennis balls at him…

Sod that game for a handful of monkeys, he'd get into the woods, skirt the house and try and reach help from another angle he decided as he ran from the house and the evil, insane Piskies.

**

* * *

**

For coup central Willow's bedroom was strangely calm now, _almost too calm_, the back of Buffy's brain added. That wasn't unusual – her life was all calm, storm, calm, storm, as soon as one disaster was over they were repairing the hatches ready for the next time they needing battening down.

The commotion from downstairs had ceased, and only the murmur of conversation could be heard now. To avoid Buffy tearing apart the room, Beryan had sent a couple of her scouts to check out what had caused the fearsome roar. Whatever they'd reported back to their little purple chief had caused her to frown deeply, when Buffy had taken that for a sign of badness, Beryan promised that everyone was unharmed. Once again Buffy had to rely on Willow's faith in the Pixie leader and reluctantly settled back down.

Now they appeared to be waiting, although for what Buffy wasn't completely sure.

"Do we have some kind of estimated time this little hostage situation is going to end?" Buffy asked. "I mean, staring at Will's walls - great entertainment, really, but sooner or later you're going to have to feed us unless you don't count starvation as harming us."

Beryan was busy talking to her lieutenants and didn't answer her.

"We'd die of dehydration thirst," said Willow helpfully.

Xander had moved to sit on the floor against the wardrobe with them. "Will, why do you not have a TV in here?"

"'Cause when Kennedy and I come to bed we have better things to do than watch TV."

Buffy raised an eyebrow at her friend while Xander asked, "What could be better than…" he grinned, "Never mind, I get it."

"I meant sleeping," Willow said, not blushing at all. So changed from the shy, babbling sixteen year old that blushed at even the simple thought of kissing someone.

"Course you did, Will." Buffy smirked, "Because sleeping with Kennedy is way worthier than watching TV."

Xander made a groaning noise deep in his throat.

"Not sleeping with, sleeping next too," Willow clarified.

"So sleeping _with_ Kennedy isn't better than watching TV?" Buffy teased her.

"Yes…no… I mean…" Now Willow seemed to be going a little red as she tried to answer without giving away too much.

"Maybe you should describe such an occasion in detail and we could tell you whether the answer should be yes or no," offered Xander, still grinning.

"Xander!" Buffy laughed, amused by his audacity, she found herself glancing at Willow wondering if she'd answer.

"What, I'm bored?" Xander defended himself.

"So I should describe my sex life to relieve your boredom," Willow asked.

"See what happens when you don't have a TV in your room," said Buffy. "Now _you _have to entertain us."

"You want to hear all the sordid details too?" Willow asked, clearly a lot more taken aback by Buffy's interest.

"Well not all the sordid…" Buffy gazed nonchalantly over at the Pixies pretending to keep an eye on them, before giving up and turning to her friends again. "I'm as bored as Xander, so sue me for wanting the time to pass a little quicker."

"You're not bored, you want sex tips!" Xander cottoned on, sitting up straight and pointing a finger at Buffy. "You want sex tips!" he repeated even louder. Buffy smacked him hard on the knee, "Ow."

"What possible use would I have for sex tips, Xander? I'm never having sex again!"

"You came to me for advice on sex?" Willow squealed, looking like she might cry with joy. Suddenly Buffy was engulfed in a big hug. "The student becomes the teacher!"

"Huh?" Buffy was bemused.

Willow pulled back, "We'll have a big talk, 'kay, I'll tell you everything you want to know, plus there's a lot of websites I have book marked that you might find interesting. I keep them in a private folder because some of them aren't exactly Dawn-friendly, or they're too friendly for Dawn's eyes, but I'll give you the password and you can peruse to your heart's content."

"Can I have the password?" Xander asked.

"Not after what happened to my book on medieval witchcraft." Willow scowled at him.

Buffy looked at Xander, her curiosity outweighing her embarrassment of a moment before.

"Will, I told you, it wasn't what you think. I was researching and eating a cream donut at the same time and obviously its true what they say about men and multi-tasking, the cream dripped and I didn't clean it up properly, the next thing I knew: pages stuck together."

"Ew Xander." Buffy stared at him in mild disgust, feeling no guilt at making Xander the sacrificial lamb that steered the conversation away from her need for sex-advice. Which she didn't. Need, that was. She'd been serious about the abstinence.

"I'm telling the truth!" he insisted.

"Buffee."

She turned sharply at the voice by her right knee. She'd almost forgotten the Pixies were even in the room for all of ten minutes. Now she smiled down at her little friend, Elowen, "There you are," she said affectionately.

"Gud moron."

Okay, so she had thought they were friends, but that wasn't the friendliest of greetings, unless you were Cordelia Chase and calling someone a moron was as close as you could physically get to an endearment.

"Gud mornen?" The young Pixie tried again when Buffy's smile dropped.

"Oh," Buffy clicked. "Well yeah I suppose it is a good morning for someone on the winning side of this little siege.

The Pixie looked unsure, long sentences were still a little beyond her, so Buffy smiled again. Elowen perked right up and then ran off.

"Is it morning already?" asked Buffy.

Willow checked her watch, "Yep, it's nearly one."

Elowen reappeared; dragging behind her a fire scarred rectangular tin. She pulled it right up to Buffy's knees and then stepped back, pointing at it.

"Fore yew an' yaw kin, Bottom Pie," she explained proudly, doing a little curtsy before taking off again back to the main pack of Pixies by the windows.

"Pie?" Xander peered into the tin.

"Breakfast I guess," Buffy peered in too. "Obviously they do consider starvation to be harmful."

In the tin was a loaf of bread, or at least that was what it looked like. She gave it a prod. It was still warm and kinda soft, Buffy pulled a chuck off the top and held it up for inspection. Baked right into the bread were chunks of pork and potato, the aroma was delicious and Buffy's mouth started watering as she regarded the tasty-looking morsel.

"They'd consider poisoning us as harmful right?

"I'd have thought so," said Xander, "And besides it looks like they're all eating it."

Buffy nodded, popped the chunk into her mouth and started chewing. "S'good," she said with her mouth full.

* * *

Angel pulled the viper into a parking space along side the bus station and jumped out, looking around for the closest entrance.

This place was perhaps nicer than most of the bus stations he'd been in, or at least it looked nicer – all glass and metal gleaming under banks of light poles arranged attractively to show off the almost new building and ensure that little of the area outside the terminal was left in darkness.

The smell was the same as bus stations everywhere though – need, hunger, loneliness and desperation.

It was strange how things changed. Angelus had enjoyed coaching inns – it was so easy for people to get lost if they were half way there already. Angel hated the modern equivalent of the same.

He wished Faith had just let him drive her all the way to Boudenver. Not just to avoid having to spend time in this place, but because that way he could deliver her right to Giles' doorstep.

He didn't know what was going through her mind right now; she hadn't opened up again in the car like he had hoped she would. She'd talked, about ghost horses and batty old women mostly, but she never touched on anything personal even when Angel did his best to probe.

Maybe she'd talked enough to make peace with her current demons, or maybe she wasn't getting on a bus to Cleveland and she didn't want him figuring that out by something she said.

As he thought this he realised he was still standing alone on the blacktop of the parking lot. Faith was still in the car. He couldn't see her through the tinted windows, and so he walked around to her side and opened the door to find her going through her pockets.

"Everything okay?" he asked.

"Uh, yeah, just give me a minute, need to find my money." Faith didn't look up at him as she continued searching her person.

Angel stepped back to wait.

After only a few seconds more Faith sat back in the low seat, running a hand through her hair, she admitted, "Guess I'm a little short."

Angel could see the money in her hand amounted to about twelve dollars, probably just enough to get her to the other side of town.

She stuffed the money back into a pocket and slid gracefully from the car, obviously she was feeling better. Her clothes were filthy though and he wished he'd thought to suggest a shower and a visit to the Laundromat before leaving the motel.

"S'okay, I can hop on the bus without paying, done it a million times before," she smiled at him as she straightened her jacket out and flicked her hair back. "Just knew you wouldn't approve."

"Faith, I can give you the price of the ticket," he told her, already reaching for his wallet. He didn't carry all that much cash these days, didn't need to back in LA, not with the unlimited company credit card, but he had a couple of hundred bills that should cover her fare.

"No, it's not fair on you." Faith shied away as he held them out to her. "Besides, like I said, I don't need it."

"I want to do it," he promised her. "Besides what if you get caught without a ticket? It'd take a long time to walk to Boudenver, longer than what you have to spare." He watched her closely.

She thought about it for long enough to worry him, and then snatched the two bills out of his hand, rolled them up and stuck them in the breast pocket of her jacket.

"Okay, but I'm paying you back, you know, one day," she smirked at him.

"Deal."

He ushered her towards the automatic glass doors of the main entrance and they walked together in silence. Angel still had no idea what she was thinking.

At the doors she stopped and placed a hand on his chest, right where she'd shallowly stabbed him earlier. "Wait here; I'm gonna go get a ticket."

If he had a heart beat, it would have gotten faster. "Why don't I come in with you?"

"Mirrors." She pointed through the glass doors and he could see that she was right, the interior walls were reflective.

At this time of the morning it was possible that someone might notice his lack of reflection, but he would prefer to risk that than let her go in alone.

"Jeez Angel, I'll come right back out here and wait for the bus with you, okay." She'd sensed his hesitation and wasn't happy about it.

"Okay." There wasn't anything else he could do, if she thought he didn't trust her, that would just give her more reason to run again.

She nodded and walked towards the doors which opened for her with a quiet swoosh. He watched her walk in, look around for what she wanted and then walk purposefully towards the ticket booths on the other side of the building.

As he waited, his fingers fiddled with the cell phone in his pocket. His phone hadn't rung since Frayer had called in the early evening and he wondered if Buffy had finally given up on him having any useful information.

Before he knew it, Faith was coming back through the automatic doors, a ticket in her hand.

"Buses are this way apparently," she said and began walking towards a far corner of the building. "I got lucky, there's a bus going my way in a few minutes."

"That's good." He couldn't read the ticket in her hand.

"Yeah, I gotta transfer in Columbia, but this time of the morning that won't be too much hassle. Might even manage to get some sleep."

Columbia, that sounded promising, at least it was in the right state. Unless she lying to him, of course.

They rounded the corner and six or seven Greyhound buses came into view. Faith checked her ticket as she walked closer.

"You know, I really don't mind driving you there, Faith," he tried again. "I could even stay a few days, help you settle in, make sure Xander doesn't give you a hard time."

She gave him a look which clearly said she wouldn't need help to deal with Xander. He wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't pursue it.

They were at the buses now and she gave them a quick look over before heading to the one she needed. Together they stood by its side.

"Faith," he began a last ditch attempt. "Please don't…"

"Dude, give it a rest, okay." Faith delved into her pocket, pulled out some cash and handed it over to him. "Your change, so you don't think I'm keeping it for getaway cash. I'm doing what you want, I'm going…home," she grimaced, "Or something. Point is, I can't turn up with you because then everyone will think I'm only there because you made me go. Me and B included."

He took the change from her. Knowing she was right didn't mean he had to like it but what choice did he have. Right now he was having doubts as to whether she would go back without him, so it stood to reason that everyone else would too.

"Can I at least see the ticket?" he asked, with a smile.

"No. You're just going to have to trust me." She winked at him and started backing towards the steps for the bus. "Keep it real, Soulboy." She cocked her fingers at him with a smile before turning and boarding the bus.

From the blacktop he watched her take her seat and only a minute later the bus started pulling out. She gave him a quick wave, which he returned, and then she was gone.

He had no idea if he had just done the right thing by letting her go or if he'd just given her the chance to take off again with no leads to follow. He looked at the change in his hand; there was a hundred and forty dollars.

He could phone Harmony, get her to find out all the destinations from Indianapolis that cost sixty dollars…or he could get in the viper and follow the bus, Faith was sat in the middle, she might never notice…

…Or he could trust her.

He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contacts to find Buffy's number. Before he hit send he thought better of it. No point in pissing Buffy off for no reason. He scrolled for a different number instead and hit dial.

"Hey Wes, it's me." he said when the line was picked up. "Yeah I found her; she's on a bus to Cleveland right now."

"…"

"No, I trust her, she'll be alright," Angel answered Wes's uncertainty. "I'll be back in the office in the morning."

**

* * *

**

Eric was in his element. Actually he was in an element he never knew existed, but he wanted it to be the one he stayed in from now on.

All around him the fresh night smells were like an aromatherapy bath for his mind, all swirling together like a, a stir fry of different creatures waiting for him to eat. Not that he wanted his meat fried and/or with mixed Chinese vegetables. Nope he would definitely be ordering his steaks rare in the future, he decided, the blood from his last rabbit kill still tangy on his tongue. He savoured it as he ran further from the town.

A part of his brain was telling him it might not be the best idea to overdo it too much on his first night out. He should probably head home and get some sleep. His mom was gonna be mad enough at him in the morning, without being too tired to go to church as well.

That was the human talking though, or what he was thinking of as the human logic, but he didn't need to listen to it or be tied to its principals, not until the moon went down anyway. It wasn't even as if he was tired, in fact he felt like he could run all night if he wanted to – so why shouldn't he?

His long legged gait took him fast through the woods.

As he came upon the old quarry, more rabbits dashed in all directions and Eric chose the one heading away from the train tracks back into the brush.

The rabbit disappeared into a burrow before Eric could sink his teeth into it, but that was fine, he was bored of bunnies now. There was bigger game in the area, somewhere, and now he wanted a piece of that!

Stopping in a clearing with the moonlight shining down on him, Eric threw back his head and howled in exhilaration.

* * *

**A/n:** _Concrit is welcome. I'll begin posting Act 3 soon_

**Thank you for reading.**


	8. Act 3:1

**A/n:** _I've tried something a little different with the POV's here, an amalgamation of sorts, so there is less shifting about. Let me know if it works to keep the story flowing more smoothly or if it just makes things confusing and sucky._

**A/n 2:** _Lele angel03, Your comment on the last chapter cracked me up. You're right about the First and the Pixies, but what can I say: Pixies are tougher!_

* * *

_**Act three**_

Buffy, hearing a long, eerie howl jumped to her feet, almost choking on a mouthful of the delicious if unfortunately named, Bottom Pie. "Did you hear that?"

Another howl went up as soon as the first ended and Buffy waved a hand at the window, making it clear what she was talking about. "It's a full moon, what are the odds that that noise isn't being made by a peaceful member of the woodland community, but it's big, bad brother?"

The Pixies watched her warily from all corners of the room.

"It sounds like a werewolf," Buffy stressed when no one seemed ready to answer her. "You have heard of werewolves, right?"

"Of course I have heard of werewolves Giglet, we are not ignorant," Beryan answered her pompously. "But you are safe in your home; there is no reason to panic."

"Obviously you've never read a little book called 'The three little pigs.'" Xander said, pushing the empty baking tin away and standing up next to Buffy.

Willow was already up and at the window, looking out over the moonlit grounds of Sunset camp.

Beryan gave Xander a withering look, "The pigs were safe in the brick house. I was reading that tale to my bearn before you were a twinkle in your pappy's eye, Biggar."

Xander gave her a tight smile without replying.

"Will, do you see anything?" Buffy asked, aware that every move she made was watched a little too closely by twenty or more Pixies. She was pretty sure moving too fast would result in her becoming a human buckaroo again.

"Nope, not a thing," Willow didn't turn away from the window as she spoke, still trying to make anything out that might be a werewolf. "But that howl sounded a way off anyway, I think. It's a still night; sound would carry a long way."

"But from what I can remember, Werewolves cover distance pretty fast." Buffy worriedly turned to Beryan again. "You said you were removing the Watcher trainees, where to?"

Beryan ignored Buffy in favour of speaking with one of her lieutenants. Her accent was heavy, her words fast and it was hard to tell if she was speaking English or her native language. When she'd finished, the lieutenant and two other Pixies jumped from the bed and disappeared out of the nearest window. Beryan turned calmly to Buffy.

"Are they at least somewhere safe?" Buffy tried. "Somewhere inside?"

"The werewolf will have no chance to do them harm." Beryan sounded like she was telling the truth but her words sounded like a threat all of their own.

"There's something else," said Willow who was still over by the window.

"What?" Buffy asked tiredly.

"I didn't recognise it, the howl I mean."

"So it's probably not Oz," said Xander, joining the conversation again, "but aside from your love life _not_ getting more complicated, I don't see what difference that makes."

"Probably not a lot, but I'm just wondering how many big, bad wolves live in the woods around here?" said Willow.

"I don't know," Buffy said, glaring at Beryan. "I just hope they don't make more while we're stuck in here."

"S'okay Buff, I'm sure if a werewolf gets a chance to bite someone tonight, without a Slayer to slow it down we won't have to worry about them waking up in the morning." Xander joined her in her glaring.

Beryan stared back at them both, unperturbed.

**

* * *

**

Giles felt the hair stand up on the back of his neck as the howl went up from the woods surrounding Sunset Camp.

His first thought was for the young Watcher trainees. They were not yet used to being in the field and even Reece, who certainly had the instincts necessary for a capable watcher, had yet to face his first encounter with a mindlessly ferocious beast such as a Werewolf.

Hopefully, then, Reece would have the good sense to go with those instincts and would keep all of the trainees inside the dormitories.

His second concern was for himself. He was outside, trussed up like Sunday lunch and with no way to help himself should a werewolf suddenly attack. It was unlikely he could rely on the Pixies to save him should this happen, resourceful they might be, but they would have to be bloody stupid to stand their ground against a two hundred pound wolf.

They must have been thinking something similar because before the howl died away completely they were running with him.

The wind whistled past his ears along with strands of grass as a second howl filled the clear night. For a few seconds his right side dipped a dramatic five inches and the sleeve of Giles' shirt became soaked with dew. He was hoisted back up and one of the creatures actually apologised to him for the slip in a thick Cornish accent.

The night was silent again when less than a minute later his captors ran beneath the trees towards the back of the camp and Giles could no longer see the full moon above him. In fact he couldn't see much of anything, silver light shone through the trees in places where the leaves were thinning, but they merely made the shadows look all the darker for it. Anything could be hiding in those dark shadows…

Another howl went up and Giles shuddered in the Pixies hold. The Pixies were muttering to each other as they seemed to run willy-nilly through the trees with him held above their heads. They seemed to be having a disagreement between themselves and although he couldn't make out more than the occasional word they were saying, he really hoped that someone was suggesting going back home until the werewolves were gone.

As the Pixies argued about the best route to take through the trees, they pulled Giles first one way and then another while still running in a zigzagging fashion through the woods. It seemed almost inevitable that sooner or later his head would bounce off a tree stump. He hadn't expected it to hurt quite so much though and they hadn't expected it to knock him unconscious.

He hung limp now, still supported above their heads on their strong little arms, his head hanging down so that it dragged on the wet grass. After some shouting, all the Piskies stopped as they decided what to do, looking around in fear as another howl sounded through the woods, closer than before.

"Wee gut to tak heem all tha way," Timsaw insisted to his brethren.

"But tha wolf is abroad, Timmy," said one. "Thas hubba bad out here."

"Wee're closer to tha circle than wee ar to tha dwelling." Timsaw pointed out, resting Giles arm on his shoulder for a second so he could run a finger under his nose to cure an itch. "Cam on, wee mus bay quik. Olodi, cam tak tha Watchoors bonce."

Olodi, a younger Piskie, came running from where he had been supporting one of Giles' feet to support his head. Timsaw quickly counted to three and they were off again as fast as they could with their heavy load.

A minute later they reached the circle prepared earlier and dumped Giles unceremoniously on the ground.

"Ar wee jus going to leave them?" asked the same Piskie who'd had doubts before.

Timsaw looked around him uncertainly for a second, but regained his confidence quick enough. "It won' be fer long, laad." he promised. "Cam on."

At his command all of the Piskies disappeared back towards the house.

It seemed like an eternity to those tied beneath the stars, but eventually the sounds of deep breathing were drowned out by a loud, satisfying crunch that echoed back off of the trees.

Reece spat the chunk of apple out of his mouth before he could choke and rested his head back on the damp grass for a moment while he caught his breath and worked his aching jaw in small circles.

There was a clattering sound made high in the trees above them by a disturbed bird, causing frantic mumbling to come from Rajiv to his right and whimpering from Miley who was to the left behind him.

Reece ignored them both for the time being, more concerned by Giles' still form.

"Mr Giles?" he called softly over the short space between them. There was no answer or any movement that he could see through the darkness. He tried again a little louder, "Giles?"

Still nothing. Reece shuffled on his side closer to the old man. "Rupert!"

There was still no response but now he was closer he could make out the old boy's shallow breathing over the noise of Rajiv's and Miley's so at least he was still alive.

There was more rustling from the trees which Reece ignored as he tried to come up with another plan. His first plan, to get rid of the damn apple wedged in his mouth, had been quite successful, but he wasn't sure what else he could do except shout for help and he didn't particularly want to shout for help with wolves, either natural or supernatural, around.

The rustling intensified and there was loud cawing above as another bird took flight from its roost. Reece could see Rajiv's eyes open wide in terror and Anthony's whimpering took on an all new level of fear.

"Lads, calm down, we're going to be alright," Reece started to reassure them, but Raj started shaking his head as hard as he could and muffled screams were coming from around Anthony's apple.

Reece rolled himself the younger boy's way to tell him to shut up and saw for the first time the monstrous head poking out of the bushes. It growled, sharp white teeth showing themselves as drool-slick lips pulled back.

"Oh shit," Reece muttered under his breath, and then almost as quietly added to the other two, "Stay quiet, don't wriggle around, just lay still!"

The monstrous head was followed by an equally unnatural body as the growling werewolf padded cautiously out of the bushes.

Reece shrank in on himself as it set those baleful yellow eyes on him and it's growling grew louder. He watched, not knowing what else to do as the thing stalked closer to the nearest cadet, Anthony, and studied the shaking boy's form.

Anthony's eyes were wide with fear behind his thick glasses, his face a pale wax-work sheened with sweat. Reece held his breath and watched Anthony do the same as the werewolf raised one massive bear sized paw above the young watcher's head. The paw came down on Miley's shoulder, quick and fast; the pain made the young man bite through his apple. Reece saw blood seeping through the four tears that appeared in the boy's shirt.

Anthony, now free from his fruit gag didn't begin screaming like Reece expected him too, but instead, with tears streaming down his cheeks; he ducked his head into the grass and remained as still as he could. Reece was impressed.

The werewolf raised his paw for another quick swipe when something on the wind made him stop; paw still raised, and lift his nose to scent the air. Anthony completely forgotten, the wolf jumped lightly over him and walked a few paces away.

Anthony tilted his head to see the wolf leaving him and let out a long shaky breath which was echoed by Reece, and behind him, Rajiv.

Reece made eye contact with the mauled cadet, and mouthed, "Hang on," to him.

They had to wait for the werewolf to get further away, at any second it might decided they were better entertainment than whatever else it was he could smell. Once it was out of sight, he could wriggle over to Anthony and check on the slashes in his shoulder. The stain on his shirt was still expanding.

Before they could start to feel safe, the werewolf went into another crouch – his yellow gaze fixed on Giles.

"No," Reece muttered under his breath, as if he was discreetly telling off a bad dog and not a fearsome demonic beast.

Unsurprisingly the werewolf ignored him and took several more steps towards the senior watcher before stopping again and staring down at the unconscious man. It's oversized head tilted curiously to one side. It gave a few low gruff barks, obviously fascinated by Rupert, maybe it was his aftershave or maybe it was the fact that the man was lying unmoving and unbothered while being studied by the bloody great savage creature.

Suddenly the werewolf swooped down, his thick, stubby muzzle aiming straight for Giles' head.

"No!" Reece yelled this time, putting as much authority into his voice as he could. "Get off with you!"

The beast's head shot back up and now it was Reece that was caught in the sinister glare of the yellow eyes, his breath hitched and he fought the will of his bladder as the growling returned, he hadn't even realised it had stopped, and the wolf took half a step his way.

"Balls," he griped, feeling sweat bead on his forehead as the werewolf gave him it's full attention. For much too long Reece was pinned by that awful stare.

Abruptly the creature grew bored of him and looked back down at Giles. Tentatively, he lowered his snout to the old man's ear and sniffed hard, his nose then travelling across Giles throat and face. The whole while Reece's heart was stuck somewhere above his Adams apple as he waited for the chomp to come that would take half of his superior's face off.

So intent on what the werewolf's mouth was doing, Reece missed the subtle shifting of its tail from side to side.

He noticed when it stepped back though, away from the prone body of Giles, and shivered. Actually it may have been more of a shudder that travelled the length of the werewolf's body, causing a rippling affect that hurt the watcher cadet's eyes as he tried to understand what he was seeing. The creatures back began to narrow and shorten, and as the beast fell to its side and kicked its legs in the air, they too began to change before his very eyes.

"It's undergoing transformation," said Anthony, his pain and fright seemed to be forgotten as he watched in awe.

"I wasn't aware that was possible while the moon is stronger than the sun," Reece muttered to him, watching the figure writhe on the ground in either ecstasy or agony.

"It's not." Miley answered simply.

Rajiv made a sarcastic noise around the potato in his mouth, Reece looked his way but before he could reply a howl rose above the camp. The three watcher cadets looked at each other in confusion and then all three turned towards the changing werewolf… who was no longer changing!

The monstrous misshapen wolf was before them once more, as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. Wild snarling filled the air beneath the trees and with out giving them another look the werewolf took off into the darkness.

Reece shared another look with his peers before slumping painfully onto his back, his own bound hands were digging into his spine but he needed a second to slump and recover from the heart-hammering terror they'd just endured.

He did manage to ask, "How's your shoulder?"

"I'm not sure, but the pain is rather great and I'd like to not bleed to death in the woods." Anthony answered.

Rajiv snorted.

"Also, there is something most extraordinary going on here tonight," Anthony continued, "And I think it would be in our best interests to not be here when the werewolf returns with its mate."

"And just how do you suggest we get out of here, Miley?" Reece asked wearily, still looking up at the treetops.

"Well I rather thought it was the Slayers job to rescue us," the young man admitted sheepishly.

Rajiv snorted again, louder this time.

Reece smiled grimly, "Actually, you have a very good point. I wouldn't mind knowing what the Slayer is up to while we and her precious Giles are out here defenceless. Bet you a tenner she's sitting by the phone, twirling her hair, waiting for the rogue to ring."

Rajiv snorted yet again, while Miley sighed regrettably, "Only a fool would accept that wager."

**

* * *

**Buffy had joined Willow at the window. Looking out at the brightly moonlit night, she tried in vain to spot anything werewolf- shaped with her sharp eyes. 

The back garden of Sunset House was large, with several out-houses that were slowly being turned into dormitories, shower blocks and storage barns. Anything could be lurking in the shadows of those small buildings or it was possible that the intermittent howling was coming from further away.

Beyond the immediate garden a tall hedge separated it from the training field. Buffy could see the whole field and nothing moved there as far as she could tell from the strange silver light of the moon. The training field was mostly bordered by trees which looked like black blobs in the dark.

"I don't see anything!" Buffy fumed.

"But that's a good sign, right?" Xander asked from behind her. "Not being able to see a werewolf means there aren't any werewolves to see."

"I can't see the watcher brats either," she pointed out. "And we know they're out there somewhere."

"Not such a good sign then," Xander conceded.

"What's that?" Willow asked suddenly, jerking Buffy's attention to her.

"Where?"

"Over there, coming down the left side of the training field." Willow pointed where she meant.

Buffy followed the line of her finger as Xander crowded her from behind for a look. A sleek, dark shadow had separated from the trees and was travelling fast across the open ground. It was definitely an animal but was the wrong shape and size to be a werewolf.

Buffy sighed, "Probably a stray dog scared to death of the howling, it's not a werewolf anyway – wrong shape." She heard Xander deflate in the same way she had.

"Ooh." Willow turned to her excitedly. "The werewolves we encountered last month looked like dogs, well wolves actually, but they didn't look like Oz did when he was a wolf."

"Huh?" Buffy took a second to look quizzically at Willow before staring hard out of the window again.

"Will's right," Xander agreed. "I only saw one for like a minute, but it looked more like a big angry German Shepherd than Oz." He leaned over Buffy's shoulder so he could get a better view of the training field. "I asked Giles about it later and he said it was probably a different…uh…" he snapped his fingers as he tried to come up with the word he wanted.

"Strain?" asked Willow.

"Yeah," Xander agreed.

"Well the shadow's gone now." Buffy said, hoping it would stop Xander from trying to mount her shoulder. "Did it look like a German Shepherd to anyone?"

"It didn't not look like a German Shepherd," said Willow, still scanning the area behind the house. "But I thought it looked more like an Irish Wolfhound."

"You could tell a difference from the shadow?" Buffy asked, looking at her friend again.

"No. I meant last month the werewolf that attacked us, well, me, looked more like an Irish Wolfhound; although all I can really remember clearly is the teeth. It had very big teeth." Willow grimaced with feeling.

Buffy put a hand on her shoulder, still feeling a little guilty that she hadn't been there to protect her friend.

Willow smiled at her, letting her know she was fine now, and they both turned back to the window just in time to be scared to death.

"Holy crap!" Buffy stepped back onto Xander's foot and Willow 'eeked' as a Pixie appeared on the window sill from nowhere.

The Pixie took no notice of them at all as it jumped between them to the floor.

"Sorry." Buffy apologised distractedly as she turned towards the centre of the room, pushing Xander gently to the side out of the way. She watched the Pixie jump onto the bed and run across the quilt to Beryan.

It went down on one knee before its leader and began speaking urgently. "Mawther, theer iss truble. Wee haave nawt aal tha watchoors, but…" It lowered its head, as if expecting to be reprimanded. "…Wee thenk yow shood act noo aan nawt delaay."

Beryan, now seated on one of Willow's and Kennedy's bright yellow pillows, was silent for a moment in thought.

"What did it say?" Buffy asked impatiently, having caught the word Watchers.

Beryan ignored her and spoke to the kneeling Pixie instead. "You are right, Timsaw, we must begin now. Leave the rest and go now to prepare those you have in the circle. I will begin in three hundred ticks."

The Pixie wasted no time in leaping from the bed and used Willow, still by the window, as an easy way to climb back up to the sill. From there he jumped out into the night.

"Circle, what circle?" Buffy asked a little head-spun, the whole exchange had lasted less than thirty seconds. "What's going on now?"

Beryan ignored her again as she crossed her legs beneath her and called to several of the Pixies still in the bedroom.

"She's doing a spell!" Willow realised. "That's the only reason you put people into a circle. Beryan," she addressed the purple leader, "You're doing a spell?"

Beryan ignored Willow too as three Pixies despatched themselves from the group by the other window and went to their leader. They were all holding tiny little wooden bowls that Buffy had assumed until now held the delicious Bottom Pie.

"Will, what spell are they doing?" Buffy asked urgently, not liking this new development any more than the previous ones.

"I…I don't know." Willow shook her head. Stepping closer to the bed she tried to see what was in the bowls. Powder, grey in one tin and brown in another, and some kind of crushed red flower in yet another. "I don't recognise the ingredients."

Beryan, who had settled herself more comfortably on the pillow as her clan brought the small tins to her, cast one unimpressed eye Willow's way.

"You call yourself Wicca and you can't even recognise the simplest of Mother Earth's fruits," she scoffed.

"I can," Said Willow, indignant. "I can recognise lots of fruits, just not these ones."

"Okay," Xander was still over by the window. "Okay, nobody panic. She said she's starting in three hundred ticks so we've got…" Xander paused while he tried to work it out. "How long _is_ a tick?"

There were chuckles from some of the Pixies. One of them held up a finger and moved it back and forth in a vaguely hypnotic gesture as he said, "Tick, tock, tick, tock."

"Thank you," Xander waved his hand in a flourish at the little guy. "Me and you should totally team up for Pictionary sometime, ha; we could change it to Pixinary. Right, so if a tick is a second, then that means we have three hundred seconds, which is…" Xander pulled a few faces while he tried to work it out in his head.

Beryan sat up straight, with the bowls within easy reach of her hands; she closed her eyes and began to chant.

Xander jabbed his finger forcefully into the air with enthusiasm as he worked it out, "Five minutes...Oh crap!" he added, as he realised the five minutes were already up.

"Willow." Buffy was inching her way to the bed and she had a dozen determined Pixies shadowing every inch. "Now's the time to step up and protect your reputation."

Willow was in a pickle. Without knowing what spell Beryan was casting, she didn't know how to break it. As always with magic though, if she waited until she had a better idea if what she was dealing with, it could well be too late.

She studied the ingredients some more, Beryan's barb still stinging, and tuned her ear into the chanting. Willow repeated some of the words silently to herself, which seemed to be very old Latin, and almost immediately her eyes widened.

"I…I know this, I've done this." Willow said excitedly. "It's a teleportation spell, and that…" she pointed to the bowl of crushed red flower "…is Anthurium. Ha!"

Beryan didn't show any sign that she was listening or even that she was aware there were other people in the room as she continued to chant with her eyes closed.

"A teleportation spell?" Buffy repeated. "Okay, that's bad. We can't let her teleport the baby watchers to wherever the hell she feels like. Will, you have to stop her now and apologise later."

Willow didn't need any convincing. Her eyes bored into Beryan's small frame and she gave a deep command of: "Stop."

She paused, awaiting some kind of reaction. Beryan didn't seem to notice.

"Oh, you want it the hard way then, do ya?" Willow started chanting under her breath, but somehow Beryan was blocking her magic. "Hey, no fair."

* * *

Timsaw and two of his squad ran back across the camp to the woods where they had left the Watchers bound and gagged. He didn't want to be out there, not at all and nether did his boys, not with a couple of werewolves roaming around. True, most werewolves wouldn't bother to eat a Piskie, it would be like him eating a sesame seed, he wouldn't even taste it. Werewolves though, tended to make the whole area skittish – and a stoat running from a werewolf would think a Piskie a fine appetiser.

They reached the clearing in the woods and skidded to a stop.

"Ronan, giv iss tha sak."

One of his boys handed over the tiny bag he'd been carrying on his back and Timsaw opened it up and carefully pulled a miniature glass vial out. He pulled the rubber cork free with a soft pop and dipped his finger into the pale blue liquid inside.

Two of the Scagden had bitten themselves free of the gags, but Timsaw ignored their pleaing chatter, and as his two squad members came and held their heads still, Timsaw used the liquid to draw crosses on their foreheads.

As he was finishing up with the older unconscious watcher, the terrifying howling started up again. Ronan and Winlow looked about them nervously, but Timsaw didn't hurry himself as he carefully replaced the stopper in the vial and equally as carefully, put it back in the bag.

"Come on, leets git oot of heer," he said, swinging the bag onto his own back. "Eet'll aal be over soon."

With one last glance at the helpless Watchers, the Piskies ran like hell for the safety of their dwellings under the camp.

* * *

Willow's face was scrunched with effort as she fought to break Beryan's block on her magic. She hadn't had to use this much energy in a while, and all she was attempting to do was break the flow of the Pixie leader's spell. She should have been able to do it in her sleep.

"Will, come on," Buffy pressured her. "It's not like I'm gonna miss any of those brats all that much, but Giles will be in big trouble if he loses everyone's kids."

"I'm trying," Willow snapped.

Through playing nice, she raised her arm and threw a flashing green ball of the energy at the Pixie leader. Beryan lifted her hand and deflected it back towards Willow. The witch was hit in the chest by her own magic and thrown back against her wardrobe.

Buffy went to run to her, but still herself as her tiny purple shadows tensed to jump. "Willow, are you okay?"

Xander was at her side, helping her up and checking her chest for big energy burns.

"Okay, ow." Willow wriggled her shoulder blades around; they were aching from the impact with the wardrobe. "That's going to bruise."

Beryan was staring at her in disapproval. "Now I have to begin again, Giglet, and your friends are at the mercy of the 'wolves for even longer."

Emphasising this, the howling restarted.

Buffy looked to the window with worry before rounding on Beryan. "Or you could just let me go and untie them."

"I'm afraid not. We can not live securely until the threat to our safety has been removed. The longer that threat remains here, the more comfortable it becomes and the harder it will be to eliminate. I must act tonight."

"I don't like the way you used the word eliminate," said Xander. "Eliminate isn't a word that brings to mind happy endings."

"You said you weren't going to kill them." Willow sounded less sure of her faith in the Pixies now. "You promised."

"I talk of eliminating the threat the watchers pose to our clan, not the elimination of the watchers themselves. We are not like you, we do not kill humans."

Willow flinched slightly at the comment and Xander spoke up angrily, "Now just you hang on a minute before you start getting all high and mighty with the judging. You're just about to send those guys and girl to God knows where. How do you know there's not going to be anything waiting at the other end to kill them?"

"I am sending them home." Beryan told him coldly. "If their kin are waiting to kill them then that is beyond my control."

"Well who died and made you the Wizard of Oz?" Xander asked grumpily.

Beryan made a rude noise, closed her eyes and began her chant again.

_Tbc..._


	9. Act 3:2

Sorry for the delay in updating. This is a small bit, hopefully to be followed by a much larger update within the next week. Thanks for the reviews, its always nice to know someone is actually reading this and what they think of it.

* * *

The howling had begun minutes after Peter ran into the woods and the watcher cadet had nearly pissed himself in fright.

Immediately any thought of helping others had fled his terrified brain and he jumped into a thick clump of bushes, mindless of the antisocial thorny stems, to hide. The horrible noise seemed to be coming from all around him, making the hairs stand up on his arms as he crouched there, shaking.

Staring wide-eyed out into the darkness he cursed the Council and his parents for putting him in this situation. Why hadn't he just followed his own career path instead of letting them bully him into a career as a Watcher?

Well he knew why; being dropped from the old family Will and Testament would have meant losing out on his share of the huge inheritance coming his way when the old sods finally gave in and croaked.

Then again, if he'd just stuck to his guns and followed his heart into stock-brokering – he could have made his own small fortune by the time he was thirty. And he'd be getting rat-arsed at some nice expensive university right now instead of crouching in a prickly bush hiding from flipping werewolves and Piskies.

Peter glanced at the neon display of his digital watch and groaned. While it was late, after midnight now, there were still hours left until the moon went down, and the clear night was in the low figures temperature wise. However much the thought of bumping into a werewolf scared the willy right off of him, he didn't much fancy freezing it off in a bush neither…and he was getting cramp in his right leg. And now he had time to stop and notice all of the other aches and pains he'd acquired from cocktail sticks, matches and hazelnuts started bothering him too.

"This is mad, man!" he muttered to himself as the howling slowly died out and the woods held their collective breath waiting to see how long the tense peace would last this time. "I'm not staying here all bloody night."

Inching his way back out from under the thorny bush, Peter stayed in a low crouch surveying the area. Nothing moved but the leaves in the breeze but he stayed in a crouch, eyes boring into the shadows surrounding him, trying to make out any threat that might be watching.

Still nothing, but Peter felt far from convinced that he was alone. He strained his ears in the hopes of catching any give away sound that he had savage company, but the rustle of leaves and his own heavy breathing masked any other noise.

He swallowed hard against his fear and very slowly reached to the side to pick up a heavy looking branch of about two feet long. Drawing his arm back in closer to his body, Peter hefted the branch a few times, liking the weight of the wood in his grip. If he hit someone with it, they were going down!

Of course, if he was attacked by a some_thing_, they would probably bite his arm off before he could hit them, but he still felt better with a weapon. And if the Piskies lobbed a burning tennis ball at him as he ran once more for the house, he could bat it right back at them and see how they liked it.

Feeling braver at the thought of handing out some payback to the little purple bastards, Peter squared his shoulders and set off at a sprint out of the woods.

Behind him another howl went up and nearly sent him diving once more for a hiding place, but it had sounded too close for comfort. Better to keep moving away from the thing than squat in a bush while it slobbered mere inches away.

Before the howl could fully subside, it merged into a snarling bellow. Concerned, Peter took a look over his shoulder as he ran and really wished he hadn't as his legs turned to jelly at the sight of the Hound of the Baskerville's leaping clear over the bush he had been hiding in, and give chase.

With a yell of terror, Peter ran faster than he ever had in his life – imagining those sharp pointy bringers-of-rabies sinking into his arse with every step.

Eric Thomas, new werewolf about town, nearly cocked his leg with laughter as the scared boy tore off through the woods. Instead of wasting the time, he took off after him instead. The smell of the boy's fear hung heavy in the air, tantalising him and waking up primordial memories that Eric either couldn't or wouldn't resist.

The werewolf chased the boy, the very simple act thrilling him no end and causing him to bay in delight. This was what it was all about! This was what he had been born to do! Chase down his prey and… tear it limb from limb?

The human side of Eric's brain stuttered on the thought, after all this wasn't a rabbit it was a human! Humans weren't allowed to kill other humans – it was murder.

The wolf side of his brain closed his ears and…chased! He wasn't a human any more. He was better than human – he was a primal, savage beast and trying to go against his new nature seemed not only impossible, but also… maddening.

Eric's gleaming yellow eyes narrowed and as the boy put on a fresh burst of speed on leaving the trees, so did he.

He was so intent on taking down his plaything, that he didn't see the great hairy beast hurtling towards him from his left side, in an awkward but fast gallop, until the thing was leaping at him. Eric flattened himself against the ground and the creature sailed straight over the top of him, landing on all fours a few feet away. It turned quick, ready to leap for the young werewolf again, but Eric was already up and trying to close the distance the boy had gained from his distraction.

When he could no longer hear the snarling right behind him, Peter twisted his neck, hoping to see that the werewolf had given up. Maybe it was scared to leave the safety of the trees. God, he hoped so.

Alas he was wrong, as he tore down the left side of the training field for the safety of the house he saw that now not one 'wolf was chasing him, but two!

"I am going to die!" he said to himself through clenched teeth as he made his legs work harder and faster than he ever had before.

Reaching the hedge separating the field from the garden, Peter bolted through wishing there was a gate he could slam shut, preferably a metal one. Something to slow them down. It was a wonder he wasn't already dog chow and any second now he was going to feel those fangs sink into his soft, biteable flesh.

Head down, he barrelled around the side of the house with only one thing on his mind…escape.

* * *

By the small light his candle stub provided, Craig wrapped three Bluebird feathers in wax paper he'd found in a desk drawer and set it with the rest of the ingredients he had gathered in the last few hours.

It had taken him a lot longer than he'd hoped, but he had found everything he needed. Well except for one thing, but he was hoping he would be able to persuade Andrew to cook pork tomorrow and he could discreetly collect the pig grease as a substitute for what was missing.

The shouting that had been going on for most of the evening had stopped after a hair-raising roar that had nearly stopped his heart for good and Craig was hoping that meant everyone had finally left for the evenings patrol. The muted howling he could hear on and off had probably sent everyone scurrying to do their duty, meaning he could hop out of the window, run around the house and get back to the boy's dorm without any witnesses.

Carefully he packed all of the baggies he'd filled and the wax-paper parcel into the baggy pockets of his jeans. Moving to the desk he hopped up and started climbing through the window.

He was sitting on the sill about to jump to the ground when he first heard the sounds of someone running fast towards him. Before he could duck back in to the room to wait until all was clear, the growling and snarling reached his ears and he jumped down after all. Safely out of sight in the large Rhododendron bush, he peeked out through the leaves, excited by the prospect of getting a gander at a real live werewolf.

What he saw quickly turned the excitement into freaked out adrenaline. Peter was running at full pelt around the side of the house with not one, but two of the supernatural mutts on his tail. The obnoxious watcher wannabe was obviously trying to make for the front door of the house, but he looked to be about beat. Panting hard as he ran on legs that looked ready to collapse, the boy's face was a mask of terror as he realised he couldn't go on much further.

Craig, initially frozen by the scene, forced himself to take action.

"Pete!" he yelled, jumping from the bush. "Over here."

For a second it looked like the watcher cadet was going to ignore him, but then his head snapped towards Craig and he slowed slightly. Not really the best move with two werewolves right behind him.

Craig was about to tell him that, when Peter spun on his toes, swinging the heavy stick he was carrying around in an arc that caused the end to connect hard with the lead werewolf's long muzzle.

The creature fell back, yelping, and Peter stood there, motionless, as if surprised by his own bravery. Meanwhile the other creature was almost upon him and the downed beast was already back up, shaking his head and looking pissed off.

"Pete, ya bloody pillock, get over here." Craig shouted, running a few steps towards him so that he could grab his arm and pull him back towards the bush.

Peter shrugged off his hand as if he could catch something from it, but followed him quickly, almost pushing him into the side of the house in his haste.

"Get in the window," Craig instructed, pushing the cadet in front of him, his heart pounding painfully. The bush wasn't going to protect them from anything for more than a few seconds.

Peter tried to climb up, but his arms and legs didn't seem to want to work for him and in the end Craig practically pushed him up and into the magic room. He heard Peter land hard on the desk and there was a lot of rattling and clanging as things fell to the floor.

As Craig was boosting himself up, at least one of the werewolves finally leapt into the bush, the heavy foliage of the plant doing nothing to slow it down. Teeth closed around the baggy leg of his jeans and he heard the denim tear as the werewolf's sharp teeth serrated the material. He let himself fall into the room straight on top of Peter.

Angry werewolf noises chilled Craig to the bone as he spun around, half sitting on Peter as he slammed the window shut on the two oversized paws clawing at the sill. The angry noises were quickly replaced by yelps and then the sound of a big demonic canine body jumping at the side of the house over and over.

"Get offa me, you poof!" Peter snapped, shoving Craig hard enough to send him off the edge of the desk to the floor.

"I suppose a thank you for saving your life is too much to ask then?" Craig stayed where he had fallen, listening to the thumps coming from the side of the house.

"Didn't ask you to, did I?" Peter got shakily off of the desk and slumped to the floor, worn out. He was still holding his big stick, which was now splintered at one end from the impact with the werewolf's jaw. He shook it tiredly in Craig's direction. "Anyway I weren't doing too bad on my own. That werewolf ain't gonna forget me in a hurry."

"What's so good about having a werewolf remember you? I'd _want_ it to forget me in a hurry."

Peter looked at him annoyed, but he didn't have a come back for once.

Craig grinned at him, "And what kind of idiot carries a bloody great stick when they're being chased by dogs – that's probably why they were chasing you in the first place, you soddin' nitwit, bet they thought it was a great game." He shook his head disparagingly.

"I'm gonna shove this bloody great stick up your arse in a minute," Peter threatened weakly. He looked at Craig with a sneer, "'Cept you'd probably enjoy it, wouldn't you?"

"Big talk for someone who can barely breathe at the moment." Craig mocked him, grinning at the watcher cadet and loving every second of having the upper hand for once. "What's everyone at home going to say when you tell them it was me what saved your life, huh Petey? If you want to buy my silence, I'm sure we can work something out."

Peter closed his eyes, groaning, "Just…put a sock in it, Rayne."

* * *

Pixies were hiding under every item of furniture in the living room. Kennedy could hear them talking to one another, probably trying to decide the best way to save their captured commander – who was still high up in the window above the door in Goorzar's gentle but unshakable grip.

Andrew was sitting on the couch letting Dawn hold a cushion to the cut on the side of his head. It had mostly already stopped bleeding, the blood turning his short blonde hair a rusty colour as it dried. That didn't stop him whining about his headache and generally feeling sorry for himself.

Kennedy wanted more than anything to tell him to stop being a baby, but there was enough guilt there at being the one who hurt him to keep her mouth shut for once. Instead she ignored him and interrogated the tiny commander.

"So how about we start with you telling me what the hell is going on?" she began, staring up at the little figure in Goorzar's fist.

"I'll tell yee nowt, Biggar!" he bravely declared, his English heavily accented but understandable.

"I won't ask you a third time," she promised, putting her hands on her hips.

"Oh aye, what are yee goen to do?" The little guy sneered down at her.

Kennedy tried to look threatening while she came up with something. In the pause that followed, Goorzar lifted the Pixie commander up and gave his face a big lick. A very big lick considering her tongue was as long as the commander was tall! She grinned at Goorzar's perfect timing.

Gasping for air, the pixie shouted something that sounded like, "By Ifileas, I yield!"

"Goorzie, he's not a Popsicle," Kennedy said quickly as she saw the demon's tongue going for another lick. "Go on then, yield."

Goorzar hadn't listened to her mom this time, and it was a second before the pixie could breathe after he received another thorough tongue lashing, but finally he spluttered out, "We are to keep you under guard this night, it is for your own safety."

"Well if you are here for our own good," asked Dawn from the couch. "Why did you attack us?"

"You started it." he replied.

"The kitchen door is still locked from the other side." Vi had been picking up things fallen from the shelves during the struggle. Luckily it looked as though only the standing lamp had been broken, the shade dented and the bulb inside smashed.

Walking back through the middle of the room from the kitchen door, she suddenly spotted something half beneath the arm chair. Stooping she plucked it up.

"Oh this isn't a good sign." Vi held up a pair of wire framed spectacles for everyone to see.

"Hey those look like Giles'." Dawn left Andrew to come and take the glasses from Vi. "They are Giles'." She looked from Vi to Kennedy, scared and concerned. "Why would he not pick up his glasses if he dropped them?"

"Well maybe he doesn't really need them, but just wears them to make himself look smarter," offered Vi hopefully. "Not that he needs to look any smarter than he already is, what with him being as smart as its possible to be, specs or no specs..." She trailed off looking as worried as everyone else.

Kennedy rounded on the Pixie high above her head again. "Just what were you supposed to be guarding us from and what does it have to do with Giles going missing?"

A long low howl could suddenly be heard, drowning out the answer the pixie gave. Although it came from outside the house and possibly quite far outside at that, it didn't stop everyone in the room from looking about them in fear.

Kennedy's stomach lurched at the sound. Again she had forgotten about the werewolves, the immediate conflict taking precedence over a routine patrol that might not have encountered any werewolves anyway. Now she knew for sure they were out there, somewhere, they took priority once more.

"Okay, it was nice of you to try and kill us to save us from the werewolves," Kennedy called up to the pixie sarcastically." But now I have to go do my job."

She was making for the umbrella stand by the front door, where they kept a few swords and the tranquilliser gun, when the pixie commander dropped down in front of her. He landed hard on the floor, gasping for breath and clutching his chest. Kennedy, surprised at his distressed state, after all he was only getting a few licks, looked up.

Goorzar was still in the window, but now her wide orange eyes were staring out into the moonlit night. She was rigid with fear, the thick hair covering her back standing up from the nape of her neck along the length of her spine. She was making a wheezing sound deep in her throat and a clicky noise with her teeth. She was not a happy demon.

"Goorzie, come down, its okay." Kennedy tried to coax her down. "Come get some popcorn from the floor." Goorzar didn't react to her voice at all.

"Can werewolves get into a house without an invitation?" asked Andrew, standing up and moving closer to Dawn and Vi.

"I don't know," said Vi. "But I'm not going to stop and ask one."

"I'm pretty sure werewolves can go anywhere they want." said Dawn. "I don't think the laws governing them are quite so refined as those for vampires. Of course I'm just guessing, Giles would know for sure, or Willow."

"Yeah, well Giles and Willow aren't here, are they?" Kennedy gave up on getting the terrified Goorzar down and went to fetch the tranquilliser gun and one of the silver swords. "And I'm not giving them a chance to knock on the front door. This month, I'm winning!"

Kennedy chucked the sword to Vi and then went to her bag, all ready to go by the kitchen door, opening it up to find the darts she'd packed earlier. She'd packed double what she had the month before, determined not to have another disaster.

Well that hope was dead in the water before they even left the house, but there was no point letting it get to her. It was hardly her fault the pixies had decided to go crazy protective on them tonight of all nights.

Besides, now she had a chance to make up for last month's debacle. She had a werewolf somewhere on the property of Sunset camp and tonight there was going to be no civilians around to foul things up and distract her when Kennedy caught up with it.

Another howl broke the uneasy quiet in the living room, Kennedy carried on like she hadn't heard it. Two darts were inserted into the gun, unfortunately that was all it would hold at one time. Four more she slipped into the pen slots in her bag so that this month she wouldn't have to fumble within it at the worst possible moment. Another two she tucked inside the Velcro flap on the sleeve of the black jacket she'd put ready to slip on before they left. She put it on now and made sure the darts stuck to the sleeve like they were, weren't going to obstruct her, or accidentally stick her with a load of sleepy drugs.

"You can't go after it alone," said Dawn, her eyes getting big as she watched Kennedy calmly prepare herself.

"I won't be, Vi's coming with me." Kennedy crossed back to the front door where Goorzar was gibbering like a wreck in the high window. "Goorzie, baby, come on down."

Goorzar gibbered some more, staring outside and banging her paws gently on the wooden sill. She was seriously agitated by the howling; Kennedy had never seen her like this before. Even earlier with the Pixies attacking, Goorzar had been calmer.

"Goorzie wanna banana?" Kennedy wheedled. She went to the fruit bowl on the little table under the big picture window, set her bag down and pulled a banana from the bunch in the bowl. The tranquilliser gun was slung over her head and shoulder so that it hung to her side in easy reach.

She walked back and waved it about under Goorzar. "Come get the banana, baby?"

"Um, not that I don't think this will be a first-rate learning experience or anything," Vi began awkwardly. "But I'm really not a dog person, they hate me and…and then they show their hate by chasing me. Maybe someone else should go with you?"

"I'll go." Dawn was already taking the sword from her.

"No, not only would Buffy kill me, you probably will too," Kennedy backed up a step, so she was way out of range of Dawn's practise swing of the sword. "Give that back to Vi."

Dawn pouted and Vi looked nervous.

Kennedy ignored the next howl when it floated through the room, but when it seemed to come to an unnatural end, she took more notice. "That sounded different."

Goorzar seemed to think so too, as high above her adopted mommy's head she began pounding both of her curled fists on the window sill and screeching in a rising pitch.

Over the noise the baby demon was making, something else was becoming clearer.

"Crud." Kennedy chucked the banana to Andrew as the frenzied baying became more audible. "Its close and it's got wind of something. I need to get out there now."

Kennedy swung the tranquilliser gun around so she could hold the stock with one hand, she pulled open the front door before grabbing the muzzle of the gun in her other hand.

"Wait for me, I'm coming." Vi called after her, clutching the silver sword and holding it upright. "I'll make good bait at least," she sighed, shooting Dawn a nervous look before following Kennedy out into the night.


	10. Act 3:3

Eric backed up, mindless of the way the bush was poking and pulling at his hair, and ran at the wall of the house again making a terrific thumping sound. The window rattled, but that was the only apparent effect he had.

His precious prey was inside and he would get to it; eventually.

The human side of his brain had shut down completely now. Maybe in horror at what the wolf-side wanted to do. More likely it was that both sides couldn't lead at the same time and with Eric giving the wolf free reign to be dominant, the human had no choice but to be the subordinate. Eric had never been taught the laws of his kind and with his maker, Marvin, gone; there was no one to help him control the supernatural urges that ripped through him right now.

He wanted the boy.

Eric was backing up for another jump at the house when the great beast from before pounced straight through the bush to land hard on his back. He yelped, a harsh fearful sound, and shot out of the bush with the beast still clinging to him.

His passage ripped up half the rhododendron bush by its roots, giving his attacker a coat of green leaves and stems, the tiny white petals looking like confetti in the moonlight.

The beast in the bush didn't seem at all deterred from trying to pin Eric to the ground with his weight and the young werewolf tried to shake him off by veering hard to the left, but eventually couldn't stop himself from being pushed into a bow. When sharp fangs pierced the thick skin at the back of his neck, Eric squealed and tried to roll over; to say sorry for whatever wrong he had done this mysterious dog-like creature.

When the beast backed off a little, still in that threatening pose, Eric was still too shook up to do anything but cower before him. Taking the risk of looking up ingratiatingly earned him a threatening growl that seemed to go on forever. Eric tried to shrink in on himself even more and drew his tail firmly between his legs for good measure.

* * *

Kennedy and Vi were making their way around the side of the house to where a loud banging noise was coming from. It sounded like a growling sledgehammer was hitting the seasoned pine wall.

Kennedy, finger on the tranq trigger, looked back over her shoulder at Vi and nodded away from the house. At first Vi shook her head no, but when Kennedy shrugged and was about to go without her anyway, the red-head sighed in frustration and followed her out in to the open of the garden.

The noise was coming from the large bush below the magic room window. In the darkness it was tough to tell what was in the bush, but the way the leaves were thrashing around, it was probably something big. Vi steadied her nerve, the long silver sword in her shaky hands affording her some courage.

"Do you think it's found a rat in there or something?" Vi whispered, barely able to hear herself above the awful noise spewing from the Rhododendron.

"No I think it can smell all of the tasty people inside and is trying to bash through the side of the house to get at them," Kennedy whispered back.

"That's not very reassuring," said Vi accusingly.

"Didn't know you wanted me to be reassuring." Kennedy raised the gun, wondering if it was best just to shoot straight into the bush or wait until she could see it. She didn't really want to poke her head into the bush after she'd fired to see if she'd hit her target. What if the werewolf faked sleep?

She didn't have time to wonder if the werewolf was that clever or if it would bother with tricks or just attack them, because the werewolf attacked them!

Hurtling out of the bush came a creature like neither of the Slayers had ever seen before. While it looked vaguely canine, it also managed to look entirely alien. On long, almost natural looking wolf-legs was a body the size of a bear and a half. How the skinny legs supported it was impossible to say. The head was massive and misshapen, the back one huge hump and the hair a shaggy mottled mix ugly even in the spare light of the moon. Its head was down as it barrelled towards them.

Kennedy squeezed the trigger and one dart shot out, missing the creature by a hair's breadth. Cursing to herself, she stayed calm and fired again.

The second dart was right on target and Kennedy could see it was going to hit the thing in the left shoulder, it was pure bad luck that the werewolf chose that moment to swing its momentum to the right, skidding a little on the grass as if it was too heavy for such a sudden move. Righting itself immediately, it was coming for them again in a fast but awkward gait that hurt the eyes to watch.

"Inside," Kennedy shouted, there was no way she could reload with the thing bearing down on them.

Vi reached the front door first, slamming it open on her way through; Kennedy was right behind her and slammed it shut again. It had all happened so quick that Dawn and Andrew had hardly changed their positions since the slayers had left the building.

"Did you get it?" Asked Dawn.

"Do you think we'd be making an entrance like this if we'd got it?" Kennedy snapped. "Andrew – Open the window."

Andrew looked from the banana he was still holding to the big picture window before running for the latter, releasing the catch on the wooden frame and shoving the window up on the runners. He stepped back out of the way before Kennedy could elbow him aside. She was too busy pulling the darts from her Velcro-ed sleeve to say thanks. Anxiously he peeled the banana and took a bite causing Goorzar to finally leave her sanctuary and come to him.

Climbing up him to sit in his protective arms, she jabbered anxiously against his shoulder and took the banana from him in a clear protest at his eating of her property.

Normally Kennedy would have smiled at the baby's antics but she didn't even notice. She pushed two more darts into the gun and sighted on the werewolf fifty yards away in the garden. The creature was bouncing around now, like it was doing a victory dance at scaring them off.

"Not going to be dancing for long Muttley," Kennedy promised, following it's prancing with the gun. Just as she felt comfortable enough to fire, the moon went behind clouds and the garden was suddenly pitch black beyond the light cast from the windows. "For Pete's sake!"

Vi was standing by her side, looking out of the window but being careful not to crowd her. "Are you sure that's a werewolf and not some other kind of demon?" she asked. "I thought werewolves were more humanish, that thing didn't look at all human."

Kennedy kept her eyes on the garden, waiting for the moon to come back out and hoping the creature was still there when it did. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've only ever seen three werewolves in real life and they didn't all look alike so… This is definitely the biggest and the ugliest so far though." She added, listening to the frightening noises it was making in the dark.

She kept the gun trained in the direction of the high pitched barking and deep throaty growling that sounded like it could almost be coming from two different creatures – it was pretty creepy. The clouds passed and the glowing brilliance of the full moon bathed the garden once more. The creature stood there with its back to the house, but as Kennedy steadied herself to take the shot it turned as if sensing the threat.

Recognition flashed through her as she saw the flattened face of the beast with its vaguely humanoid features. Her dark eyes locked with his yellow ones despite the distance between them. She heard a lower, more personal growl which made her grip the tranquilliser gun tighter, not fazed that she had made the chilling noise herself. The werewolf by contrast was unnervingly silent as he stared at her venomously, lips pulling back just enough to show his teeth.

She licked her lips, narrowed her eyes and pulled the trigger. The dart struck his broad, totally uncanine chest, and stuck, just as the moon went bye-bye again.

Abruptly Kennedy switched the rifle-like gun around in her hands and brought the stock around in a fluid batting motion that completely knocked the Pixie commander from the fruit bowl table to the floor. He laid there winded, with the tranquilliser dart he'd stolen from Kennedy's bag lying next to him.

"I wondered where he'd gotten to," Dawn smiled.

Kennedy high-fived Vi and turned to pluck the Pixie from the floor by the front of his dark green vest. "He was hiding in my bag; waiting until I shot the werewolf full of drugs before he did the same to me…right?" she asked the little guy.

He hung from her grip defiantly, his arms crossed and his face turned away.

"Goorzie, want your toy back?" Kennedy held the little Pixie out to the demon nestled in Andrew's arms.

Goorzar reached out for him, grinning.

"Okaa," the pixie shook his head fast. "I will staan down." His body enclosed within the demon's warm, soft, banana-smelling paw, he repeated, "I will staan down! I giv up mee aarms peacefelly!"

Kennedy ignored his cries. "Okay, that's the werewolf immobilised for the time being."

"Are you sure you hit it?" asked Dawn.

Kennedy nodded, "I hit him."

"How'd you know it's a him?" Vi pulled the window down and re-latched it, cutting off the cold draught, before moving across the room to fall, exhausted, onto the couch.

"Call it a hunch," Kennedy smirked.

* * *

Eric yipped for forgiveness, belly up, as his intimidator snarled down at him, leaving him in no doubt who was boss. Just in case the whole being scared right out of his shaggy coat wasn't enough of a hint.

Finally the superior werewolf ceased his threats and stepped back. Eric waited, not sure if he should get up or if moving would displease.

The older, larger 'wolf seemed to lose interest in him as he turned to look at the house. Eric risked creeping away on his belly, ears still flattened to the side of his head, expecting to be noticed and reprimanded.

He'd barely made it out of the other werewolf's shadow when there was a sharp, angry yelp behind him. Eric turned to face the noise beseechingly, expecting that crushing weight to fall on him any second.

Instead he saw the other looking down at his broad hairy chest. Eric looked too and despite the garden being in utter darkness again as clouds scudded over the moon, he could see the long thin needle like thing sticking into the beast's flesh. He took a step closer, curiosity outweighing his fear, but cringed backwards when the other suddenly slumped, his whole body sagging towards the floor. With what looked like a lot of effort, the beast pulled himself back to his paws.

The creature whined, taking a clumsy step towards Eric.

Reading his sluggish body language, Eric jumped out of the way and bolted towards the woods; the beast's slow pounce missing him by a mile.

* * *

It was still dark as the bus made its way through the Cleveland streets to the bus depot and being a Sunday morning it was pretty quiet.

Faith had tried to keep her mind off of her destination and what she was going to have to face when she reached it, but the blackness of the windows had meant that all she could see in them was her own dim reflection which did nothing to distract her.

What was Buffy going to say when she saw her and more importantly, what was she going to say to Buffy. 'Hi, sorry I was a bitch to you when you flew all the way out to California to see me' was a start she supposed, but where she went from there she didn't know.

She could spend a lifetime saying sorry to Buffy and it still wouldn't make everything alright.

She'd give anything for a crystal ball, some way of knowing in advance what Buffy was thinking. Angel had been no help at all on that score. In fact he'd been pretty cagey about it all, like maybe he knew Buffy wasn't going to give her the time of day when she arrived but hadn't wanted to say so in case Faith took off again.

It was pretty smart of him, because if he had said that, Faith knew she'd be on a bus to Florida or somewhere else in the opposite direction of where she was heading.

It was only the small hope that Buffy hadn't totally given up on her that had Faith shrugging into her filthy jacket again and disembarking with the few other passengers outside the Cleveland bus station. The small hope that maybe this wasn't all just a big fat waste of time that was going to get her heart broken all over again.

Because really, once was more than enough.

The early morning air was cool and refreshing after the stuffy bus, even the diesel fumes hanging in the air was better than six hours worth of people smells.

Faith took in a big lungful of it as she tried to quell the tiny voice telling her the only thing Buffy Summers was good for was breaking hearts.

That wasn't true, she knew that. Buffy made plenty of people happy. She'd even made Faith happy and that was a hell of an achievement. It was Faith's own fault that she'd decided to hand herself back in and lose that happiness.

She'd gone through with it, after finding out how Buffy supposedly felt about her, thinking that if she got out again in a few years all legit, she could find Buffy and then, maybe, the two of them could see if they were capable of more than making each other miserable.

So here she was, standing on the asphalt, a free woman ready to put that plan into action and she was scared shitless. Knowing Buffy was only about thirty miles away from where she stood right now had Faith wanting to jump back on the bus again.

She watched the driver climb down from the bus and use the key fob to electronically lock the doors. Okay that plan was out then.

"Okay Faith," she muttered to herself as she started walking towards a line of taxis parked along the curb. "Why don't you grow a pair already?"

She reached the taxi at the head of the line and the driver's window slid open as she approached.

The driver was about forty, dressed in a chequered red shirt with the sleeves rolled up, as he leaned one arm on the lowered window Faith could see it was covered in sailor tattoos.

"Where you going, sweetheart?" He asked, his voice heavy with a German accent.

"Uh," Faith bent her knees a little so she could see his face. "Place called Boudenver, ever heard of it?"

"Yah, jump in, we'll be there in forty minutes." He turned the key to start the engine.

Faith hesitated, "Uh, how much is it gonna cost?"

"Why, how much do you have?"

"Fourteen dollars," said Faith hopefully.

The guy started to laugh, "If you want I can take you as far as the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, or nearly as far, you'd have to walk the last half mile."

The guy's laugh was deep and infectious and Faith found herself actually grinning a little as she straightened back up. "That's not really gonna help me dude."

She weighed up her options. She didn't really want to rip this guy off, but she could always send some money to him. The important thing was getting there, she could deal with the how later.

She bit her lip a little, ran a hand back through her dirty hair and gave her most 'come fuck me' smile as she looked through the window again. "Isn't there anyway I can persuade you to give me a discount, babe? I really gotta be in Boudenver this morning."

His laughter slipped away. "You should be ashamed of yourself," he said quietly, sternly. "What would your father think, huh?" The window rolled back up and Faith was left staring at it.

"Well screw you too, Mofo," Faith ran her hand through her hair again, angrily this time.

She looked back at the short line of taxis, but didn't have the heart to try any of them. They would have all seen her at this righteous prick's window and would know she was trying to hitch a free ride. Sure some of them might be more susceptible to her prostitute fake-out, but she didn't really feel in the mood to play that game any more.

How dare he bring her dad into this? She glared at the asshole in the cab again, but managed to resist kicking his door in. What did he know anyway?

With a string of mumbled curses she stormed away from the bus depot.

Fine, she'd find her own way to Boudenver and B had better be frickin pleased to see her; else she'd be coming back to Cleveland to kick some fat cab-driving ass.

* * *

Reece pulled on the rope binding his wrists together, feeling it bite agonizingly into his skin. Through gritted teeth he tried to reassure Anthony and Rajiv,

"Pete's fetched help by now; someone will be here before long. The worst has passed."

"I find it hard to believe that Peter Jones will save the day." Anthony was also trying to get his hands free. He was also kicking his tied feet about and wincing with every movement. The deep scratches in his shoulder must have been killing him, but he didn't let them slow him down.

Rajiv mumbled something to Anthony around the potato still wedged in his mouth; he was trying to rub the rope around his wrists against an exposed tree root, but all he was achieving was aching arms.

Reece agreed with the gist of Rajiv's mumble – that Anthony was an idiot – but he couldn't help thinking deep down that if Pete was about to save the day, he was taking a long time to do it.

Rajiv had joined them, in a manner of speaking, ages ago. Pete must have run into some trouble of his own before he'd sounded the alarm. Or, possibly, everyone else was in just as much trouble as they were and therefore couldn't come to the rescue.

Reece lifted his head to look at his motionless elder. Seeing Mr Giles unconscious made the latter scenario all the more likely. In some respects it was quite gratifying to consider that the amazing Buffy Summers and her chums had found themselves incapacitated by the six-inch tall pests.

Smugness aside though, Reece knew it didn't help get them out of the woods.

"Argh gaah!"

Anthony's Karate Kid style shout made him roll over that to way to see what the hell was going on now. The youngest cadet had managed to get his small hands free and was already sitting up and cradling his sore wrists in his lap.

"Nice one, Miley," Reece congratulated him.

The boy whimpered a little looking at his wrists, and then pulling his shirt aside so he could see his shoulder, he whimpered some more. Reece waited for him to lose it and start balling his eyes out, but he pulled himself together with a giant sniff.

First he straightened his glasses and then he set about untying his ankles; still he hadn't said a word. Reece lay on his side watching him. It took him a minute or two to get the ropes at his feet undone and then he was up and moving towards Mr Giles. Rajiv made some loud noises behind his potato and Miley did him the favour of pulling it out of his mouth on the way.

"Thanks man," Rajiv said gratefully as soon as he could speak. "Them things taste 'orrible when they ain't cooked." He spat on the grass.

Miley was checking the older Watcher's pulse and airways, "He's alive."

"Good," said Reece on hearing what he already knew, "Now any chance you could untie us so we can all get out of here?"

"A please wouldn't kill you, you know." Anthony told him as he loosened Giles shirt a little.

"You see, this is why people don't like you, Miley," Rajiv explained to him amiably. "Nobody wants to have to say 'Please don't leave me here to be eaten by a werewolf.' It's just not nice."

Looking suitably castigated, Anthony untied Rajiv's hands without another word and while the Asian was tenderly rubbing his rope-burned wrists, he untied Reece too – hands and feet.

"Thanks," Reece shot him a quick wink. The boy may have been irritating beyond words, but he wasn't completely useless.

Miley was a bit flustered by the wink. People didn't wink at him, they sneered or jeered often, but the camaraderie suggested by winking was a new one. "You're, uh, welcome."

"How's your shoulder?" Reece asked, getting to his feet and tugging the younger boy up by his elbow. "Think you're up to helping me carry Rupert back to camp?"

"I, ah, yes, of course," Anthony said at once.

"Want me to check it, see how bad it is?" Reece gestured at his shoulder.

"No, its fine, merely a flesh wound – I'll clean it up when we get back to the house."

Reece was further impressed. Up close he could clearly see the long tears in the boy's t-shirt and the dark stain around the cuts showed how much blood he must have lost. "Okay, lets go. Raj?"

"I'm ready," Rajiv stood up, stamping his feet to get some more feeling in them.

"Miley and I are going to carry Mr Giles, you are going to be our scout, make sure the coast is clear, okay?" Reece picked up Giles under his arms and Anthony quickly hurried to pick up his feet. When they were both supporting him comfortably, they turned to see that Rajiv hadn't moved yet.

"Coast's not clear," Rajiv's voice trembled as he nodded his head in the direction of a growling, pissed-off wolf.

"Shit." Reece kept his voice low. "Nobody make any sudden movements – maybe it won't bother us."

Eric was dead-set on bothering them as he came closer to the circle. He was feeling frustrated by his failure to catch his earlier prey and humiliated by his encounter with the other beast.

As he stalked them he wondered which to go for first. The smallest boy smelled of blood, very tempting, but the biggest boy smelled like power and defeating him might be just what he needed to lose the residual shame of his submissive behaviour.

The third boy, the one standing apart from the group, smelled of fear and adrenaline which made Eric's mouth water, but it had an underlying scent of, he sniffed the air hard… Mushrooms? Something peculiar anyway.

Still trying to decide, he paced around them growling, hoping they'd all start to run soon so that he could start to chase.

* * *

"Ha'i eskew eemy yaar'n"

Beryan recited the same phrase over and over again as she poured powders into a central bowl and waved her hands about; smoke started to rise.

It was all very impressive, yet Buffy didn't feel it.

"Will, I know you can do something – turn her into a newt or make her grow big enough for me to hit her, something, before this gets any more out of hand," she hissed.

Willow looked from Buffy to Beryan, not sure. There was still howling and growling going on outside, sounding closer all the time.

She had felt the exact moment when the Pixie had become so into the spell that all control of Willow's magick had been released and she knew that if she wanted – she could turn Beryan into a big, human-sized newt and make her beat up herself. She just wasn't sure that was the best course of action for everyone.

"I don't know if I should break the spell. Beryan was right, Buffy, the longer the kids are out there the more chance there is of them being attacked. If she really is just sending them home, maybe we should let her do it. After all, they're going home tomorrow anyway. Hey maybe Giles can reclaim some money from their tickets – that wouldn't be so bad."

"You can't be serious," Buffy turned to her best friend. "We can't let them win, not after all this. What happens when they decide they don't like us living here very much either? What's to stop them from teleporting us all back to Sunnydale?"

"Yeah, but Willow is kinda right, Buff. There's not much point winning on principal if all the itty bitty Watchers are in even ittier bittier pieces afterwards." Xander reasoned. "If the werewolf threat was neutralised them I'd say bring on the mole bashing, but with it still out there…"

The bedroom door nearly flew off its hinges cutting Xander off and Dawn appeared in the room out of breath. "Don't know if you could hear it up here, but there was a werewolf. Kennedy neutralised him."

Buffy's relief at seeing her sister completely unharmed was squashed the second twenty Pixies threw themselves at Dawn's head and the teenager staggered sideways across the room before going down on her knees with a short scream.

"Will, there's the magick word," Xander waved an impatient hand at her.

Steam blew out of Buffy's ears, muffling the alarm whistles that sounded as her red hot rage hit the big bell at the top of her angrimeter. "Get your god-damn freaky little hands off of my sister!" She went into attack, swiping and pulling at the Pixies clinging to her sisters clothing.

"Aplooshie!" Willow flung a hand in Beryan's direction and a stream of red sparks shot from her fingertips like a wave and splashed against the small leader.

Beryan was knocked over onto her back and the spell-casting tins and bowls were also knocked over, the ingredients spilling together onto the orange duvet.

"Yow stupid girl!" Beryan yelled as she picked herself up and dusted herself off. "Did your Goddess teach yow nothing?"

"I… what?" Willow already had a bad feeling about what she'd done, with the yelling that bad feeling was growing.

Beryan stalked up the bed towards the end where the witch was standing. Behind her the pile of mixed powders and leaves suddenly combusted causing a small fire to break out in the middle of the bed.

"Do you know no better than to interrupt another's casting? Have you had no teachings on what such an interruption can do?" For a small lady, Beryan could shout really loud. ""Did you not think about the consequences of your actions?"

Willow took a step back, "Of course I know better, but you… you left us no choice, and with the werewolf gone there's no threat to breaking your spell. You're just miffed that I could stop you."

"Um, fire anyone?" Xander seemed to be the only one in the room that noticed the burning duvet.

One after another Buffy pulled Pixies from her sister and flung them at the window so fast that her hands were almost blurry, "Get off of my sister!"

There were a series of thuds as the little bodies hit the glass, they were the lucky ones, the not so lucky ones suddenly found themselves sailing out into the night.

"You stupid girl. You think you are so wise and yet you blindly broke my casting without thought…" Willow started to interrupt, but Beryan kept talking over her. "…You gave no thought to the sensitive words I was speaking, did you Giglet? Your arrogance over ruled your commonsense…"

"Now just wait a damn minute," Willow started angrily.

"It is done," Beryan told her simply. "You anger at me is misplaced; if you need someone to blame you should look inward."

"What do you mean?" Willow suddenly looked and sounded very young as she asked, her voice laced with dread.

* * *

There was a rock by Rajiv's right foot. It was a big rock, oval shaped like an American football, but not quite that big. He wondered how heavy it was and how straight it would fly if he was able to throw it.

"Can you two distract it for a minute," he asked, his mouth barely moving as he stared at the growling werewolf. It looked different to the one before, more wolf-shaped, but no less deadly.

"I imagine we could if we wanted to die," Reece used the same stiff lipped method as he answered. "Have you a plan?"

"Might have, not sure yet," Rajiv looked at the rock again. "Distract him and let's see."

Reece took a long, slow breath as he tensed ready to cause a distraction. He saw Miley's eyes go wide, obviously thinking the idea foolish, but as soon as Reece jumped a foot to the left, the boy did exactly the same; trusting him in the same way he trusted Rajiv...completely.

The second they jumped, with Giles barely supported between them, Rajiv squatted, grabbed the rock and was up again; ready to bowl the walking shag-pile out.

The rock was airborne a second after Eric leapt towards Reece and Anthony. Rajiv took a step back, knowing he was bang on to hit the target on the side of his head, and sure enough inches from Eric's terrifyingly sharp claws rending Reece's back in two, the rock connected and the werewolf went down like a sack of manure.

Eric stumbled, his paws going out from under him as he hit the ground sooner than he had intended. His head hurt like a bitch and he was seeing flashes of blue and green before his eyes. He whined as he feebly tried to get to his feet, but the heavy rock had done some damage and finally his head landed between his paws as he lost consciousness.

Rajiv let out a shaky breath that he heard echoed by Reece and Miley, Mr Giles was still out cold. Running a hand through his hair he looked down at the werewolf for a beat before enquiring offhandedly:

"The bluey-green shimmers – they're just withdrawal symptoms from the adrenaline or something, yeah? Like when you're coming down off acid or something?" He ran his palm over his eyes, but when he looked again the weird special effects were still going on.

"Don't count on it, mate." Reece got a better grip on Giles. "I think we should be getting out of here now." A turquoise cross started glowing on his forehead, matching ones adorned the brows of his fellow watchers.

"I agree. Its magic of some kind and considering what we just went through, I doubt it's a protection spell," Anthony also shifted his hold on the senior watcher. "Also Mr Giles is getting rather heavy."

"Come on then let's get…" Reece began as slowly the four watchers began to fade from view. "Oh, sh…"

The air gave one big ripple, like a sheet shaken out before it's folded.

And then they were gone.

End of Act three

Thank you for reading. Feedback/Concrit is always greatly appreciated.


	11. Act 4:1

Hey all. Thanks for all the reviews for the last chapter and wow there were a lot, so cool. I know this ep has been very heavy with OC's, more so than I meant it to be but I got a little carried away with it all. So thanks to everyone who's sticking around despite that.

Anyway. Here's the start of act 4.

* * *

_**Act four**_

"It is done." Beryan shouted out and immediately all the Pixies in the room began to form neat lines heading for the windows.

"Yeah and it's on fire!" Xander was frantically beating the burning duvet with one of Willow's pillows, but he dropped that with a little yell when it caught aflame and looked around for something else to use.

Buffy stopped pulling Pixies from Dawn when she realised they had all left on their own and turned slowly to look at Beryan. "What do you mean: It's done?"

If Beryan could feel the heat of the fire on her back, she wasn't showing it as she stood regally on the foot of the bed, her superior gaze meeting Buffy's head on. "The spell has been cast; the watchers have gone."

"So I guess I don't need to tell you guys about the Pixie problem then?" Dawn bounced to her feet, looking around. "Where's Giles? Vi found his glasses."

"What do you mean?" Buffy asked. "He was downstairs with you."

There was the sound of feet thundering up the stairs.

"Not since the Pixies decided to go all over-protective on us. He disappeared in the scuffle; we assumed he'd come up here to help." Dawn explained anxiously.

"No, he didn't." Buffy turned to Willow only to see the same sick expression on her face.

Xander probably would have been wearing it too if he wasn't still struggling to put out the flames trying to engulf Willow's entire bed.

"Pixies have left the building and the werewolf is out of commission!" Kennedy entered the bedroom triumphantly. "I'd say this month it's Slayers 2, monsters 0."

Vi came in right behind her and then took a step back again, her eyes going wide. "Fire!"

"Thank you. I thought I was the only one who could see it," Xander gladly accepted Vi's help in, what turned out to be, just fanning the flames. "I think it might be magick fire."

"What's going on?" Kennedy asked, seeing the looks on Buffy and Willow's faces.

"Maybe Giles left the house on his own, to check on the trainees or something?" Willow didn't sound like she really believed that.

"He didn't go out the front door, Vi would have seen him," said Kennedy. "And they locked the kitchen door so unless he had a key in his pocket and unlocked it and locked it after him…" she trailed off as she remembered that she had seen the kitchen door open for just a few seconds, maybe just long enough to carry someone out. "Okay, let's say that if he went through the kitchen door, he didn't do it on his own two feet."

"You sent Giles to England!" Willow turned on the small leader.

Buffy thought she was going to be sick or have a heart attack or something. Giles teleported all the way to England? Okay so he had done it once before, but that had been with a coven of powerful witches powering the ride, not an eight inch little… Pixie! What if her magick didn't hold all the way there? What if it failed while Giles was over the Atlantic and he fell in the water and got eaten by a shark?

"No, Giglet, I did not," Beryan told Willow.

"Thank God," Buffy breathed and heard a similar sentiment coming from Willow.

"I do not know where I sent him," Beryan continued. "Yow interrupted the casting before I could finish – he could be anywhere."

"What?" Buffy exploded.

"Crap." Willow muttered to herself. "It's my fault. I broke the spell when she was halfway through because Dawn said the magick word and now…"

"No, Will, this isn't your fault, it's her fault," Buffy pointed to the Pixie leader. "Alright, you've made your point and taught us a lesson; we should have listened to your fears instead of ignoring them. Now bring him back."

"I can't; they are gone," Beryan said without any sympathy. "Without knowing where they are, I can not bring them back."

Buffy didn't even give herself time to think before she made a dive for the Pixie. She knew if she did, the Mawther would somehow know and evade her. As Buffy landed on the foot of the bed, both of her hands grabbed Beryan around her fat middle and held her tight, tight enough to maybe crush internal organs, but Buffy was beyond caring.

"Kennedy the windows!"

On Buffy's shout, Kennedy practically leap-frogged Dawn to get to the nearest of her windows. Slamming it shut and locking it, she moved to the next, knocked away a Pixie that appeared on the sill, slammed that shut too and flipped the catch.

By the time she'd turned back to the room, Dawn had shut the door and was leaning on it just in case and Buffy was holding Beryan up in front of her nose.

"You are going to bring them back, understand me," Buffy said, her voice high with emotion that she was trying to keep in check, but it was Giles! "You are going to bring all of them back and they are going to be safe and well and you and your clan are going to get to keep on living."

"And if I can't?" Beryan asked. Her voice still dignified despite the way Buffy was gripping her like a bad dolly. "What then Giglet?"

"Then…Xander don't" The carpenter had been about to pour a couple of bottles of holy water onto the fire in a last ditch effort to put it out, he stopped and looked at Buffy. "If you don't bring him back exactly as you sent him away, I'll let the whole house burn down and you and your… Skagdan…," Buffy spat the offensive word at Beryan, not knowing what it meant, just that it would piss her off. "…won't have anywhere at all to live."

The people in the room who weren't Buffy and Beryan exchanged worried glances and the bed continued to burn.

Beryan stared at her coolly. "And where will you and your kin live?"

"Really just interested in turfing your kin out right now," Buffy told her calmly. "So what's it going to be?"

* * *

By the time the sun's fingertips gripped the horizon, Faith had a list of people whose asses she was gonna kick if Buffy wasn't one hundred percent happy to see her.

The cab driver, the guy who'd told her that by heading under the freeway she could meet up with a road that ran straight to Boudenver, the punk kid who had tried to sell her cheap drugs underneath the freeway, and who wasn't keen on the word 'No', and whatever the hell kind of farm animal had made the mess that was currently stuck all over her left boot.

She had found the promised road, eventually, but not before traipsing across a dozen or so fields first. When she'd hit the two lane blacktop she'd tried to wipe her boot off on the grass, but she obviously hadn't gotten it all cause she could still smell the stink rising from it with every step.

Or maybe that was just her? One shower in a week of hard travelling – she'd had fresher moments.

Personal hygiene was just another worry to add to the long line of worries currently queuing up to add to her anxiety over seeing Buffy again. Nearer the front of the queue was the feeling that Buffy was gonna slam the door in her face without so much as a hello. Sat somewhere in the middle of queue was the knowledge that even if Buffy wouldn't give her the time of day, Faith would still have to spend the next day and a half waiting until her parole officer showed up before she could make alternative living arrangements.

The road she was walking along was bordered on both sides by fields of harvested corn and was as boring and devoid of interesting focal points as it had been when it was pitch black a couple of hours ago. There weren't even any stones she could kick along the road. Although to be honest, she probably didn't have the energy to do more than put one foot in the front of the other. She hadn't been walking slowly and she could feel her legs starting to burn. The fuel the burgers had provided was beginning to run out now and while she felt healed and rested after her short nap and the five hour bus ride; it had still been a long week.

Just thinking that was enough to make her yawn and the pleasure she felt at passing a sign saying one mile to Boudenver actually outweighed the anxiety she was feeling for a while.

It soon came back though; the closer Faith drew to the small village. Her boots were heavy with more than just tiredness and cow shit when the first farm buildings came into view.

Faith started dragging her soles down the road, hoping to lose the last of the muck before she hit this centre of civilisation. It wasn't early anymore, and people were bound to be around.

Once Faith was past the farm, the first houses came into view. Big places behind tall metal gates to begin with. Widely spaced enough along the road that it took her five minutes at times to walk between the entrances to the their well-kept driveways.

After maybe another quarter of a mile Faith rounded a big bend in the road and the place actually started showing some town-like qualities. Up ahead she could see houses, proper houses sitting side by side each other as they lined one side of the street. She passed a road heading south with a smart-looking metal signpost reading 'To Boudenver Academy' and another heading north, with a signpost that was wooden and worn, barely legible, reading, 'To Pleasant Creek.'

Faith gave both roads a cursory look, not sure if she was meant to take either of them. She had no clue where this Watcher camp was; only that it was in Boudenver, somewhere. Would Giles have been pompous and stupid enough to name his pretend school something as pretentious as Boudenver Academy? Surely not, that was just asking for people to take an unwanted interest.

She kept walking down what appeared to be the main drag of the village, passing a large one story place on a corner with a carved wooden sign outside proclaiming it was Barnies Bar. It was shut right now, being Sunday morning, but Faith made a point of remembering where it was. The only way to have fun here might be to get drunk and take pot shots at the purple dinosaur running the place.

Faith shook her head at the horrible quaintness of it all and kept walking.

After the bar, small cottages lined both side of the street for a stretch – all looking like they could have been made from gingerbread. One of them even had a little old couple working together on their picket-fenced garden.

"Hello dear."

The little lady's greeting made Faith jump slightly in surprise, it was the first time she'd heard someone else's voice in over three hours.

"Hey." Faith gave her a nod and kept on walking.

"Are you lost?" the lady asked warmly as she pulled up half dead plants by the roots and threw them onto a growing pile near the garden path.

Faith stopped and turned back to face her, "Uh yeah, I'm trying to find…" she had a brainwave and reached into her inside jacket pocket for her release papers. After a couple of seconds of speed reading she found the name of her parole residence. "I'm looking for a place called Sunset House?"

"Oh." The lady's smile didn't drop but Faith had the feeling that a cloud had just passed over her sunny welcome. "You're staying up at that camp?"

"Yeah, do you know it?" Faith asked as graciously as possible.

The old lady sighed and looked to her guy, who turned to give Faith's face a good look before his eyes dropped to the papers in her hand. "Sure a lot of young girls you got up there," he remarked, a twinkle in his eye. "A fella can't help wondering what you might all be doing?"

"Garth!" The lady snapped softly. "It's none of our business."

"Don't listen to Edna," Garth winked at Faith. "She thinks that Englishman, Mr Giles is it? Is running a house of ill repute, bringing sex-traders over across the lake from Canada."

"Garth Maple, it was you that said that, you old fool." The Edna chick threw a wilted Snapdragon at the guy.

Faith put her papers away, unhurriedly. She didn't know if the couple knew what they were and she didn't care; they were clearly insane anyway.

Letting her amusement show, she said, "Well I'm not from Canada, but for all I know some of the other girls are. It was… interesting meeting you." She gave them both a last nod before turning on her heel and heading back down the street.

She rolled her eyes as she went, if that was a taste of what the average person was like around here…

Running a hand through her hair as she looked around some more. Well hair was a nice way of describing the greasy rat-tails she was currently modelling.

The cottages on the right side of the street stopped and on the other side of a narrow alley there was a diner. It was a big single story place, half brick and half wood, the wood painted a bright blue. One half of the front wall was a big plate glass window, through it Faith could see huge platefuls of food and her stomach rumbled.

The diner had a big car-park and the other side of that was a general store. The front door was wide open and there were baskets right outside full of crappy two dollar plastic house wares. There was a sign in the window announcing a half-price sale on detergent. It wasn't exactly Macys.

Standing outside the dinky shop Faith could see all the way to the end of the main street. By the time the road disappeared around another bend it already had open fields on both sides again.

"And I thought Sunnydale was small," Faith murmured to herself as she scanned the final few houses.

Her stomach groaned at her again.

Deciding she might as well get something to eat while she was there, she walked to the diner's door. She could always hope that someone inside might actually be able to give her directions too.

Inside it wasn't busy. Only three out of a fifteen tables were occupied and only one of those, a table of kids, had more than one person seated. It probably never got busy around here.

It was nice though, Faith decided as she made her way to a table at the back. Aside from the food, which smelled great, the lemon-yellow walls caught the sun through the glass windows and made the place bright and cheerful.

Slipping into a plastic chair, she groaned with pleasure; it felt good to give her feet a break. She took her time to run her gaze over everything in the diner, trying to get a feel for it and what eating here regularly might be like. Did Buffy and Willow come down here for Mocha's every afternoon like they had in Sunnydale? Faith had been so jealous of their after school trips to the Expresso Pump, especially as she had hardly ever been invited.

Her gaze had finally made it to the furthest point in the diner, the window table at the back level with hers.

"What?" she asked the six kids sitting there staring at her.

Some shook their heads, others shrugged, but no one said a word as they continued to stare.

Faith tried to shrug it off, kids were creepy anyway. She focused on the waitress coming her way instead. The woman must have been in her forties; her light brown hair had grey highlights not hidden by dye and while judging by the way her nametag was almost poking Faith in the eye, this woman could have learned her trade at Hooters, she was dressed very mumsily in black slacks and yellow sweater that nearly matched the colour of the walls. The only sign of an official uniform was a stripy blue and white apron tied around her waist which bore the name 'The Mouth'.

Faith raised an eyebrow as she had no choice but to look at the name tag. "Hey Gina," she greeted the woman as she accepted the laminated piece of card that was the menu. "Thanks."

She pored over it quickly, scanning prices instead of food, knowing exactly how much money she had down to the last penny. She'd counted it a few times on her long, boring walk. Everything seemed pretty cheap, at least compared to some of the other places she'd passed through crossing the country.

"You want to hear the specials?" Gina asked in a croaky voice, like she spent a lot of time shouting or was just getting over a bad cold.

"Nah, no need," Faith gave her a quick smile before reading straight from the menu. "I'll have double eggs, bacon, hash browns and toast; and a piece of pie to follow." She waited as the waitress pulled a pad out of the kangaroo pocket on her apron and wrote down her order. "And a large coffee please," she added, pushing the menu across the table and sitting back with a smile.

"What kind of pie?" Gina asked. "We got blueberry, raison and macadamia or treacle."

"They all the same price?" Faith checked and Gina nodded. "Then whichever, surprise me."

She had just enough in her pocket to cover what she had ordered and leave a 25 cent tip. Hopefully Giles wouldn't be expecting her to pay any rent up front.

Her face fell. Damn, did Giles want rent? She hadn't even thought about that. She didn't even know what kind of accommodation she'd be staying in. Did she have a room of her own waiting for her? They wouldn't have her bunking with Buffy again; B would never let that happen in a million years. Maybe she'd be in a room with all the other Slayers. She hoped not and she sure as hell wouldn't be paying Giles a lot if she was.

Gina the waitress had disappeared behind a counter at the front of the diner and the kids on her left were still staring at her from two tables away. They were all younger than ten and a few of them had pink milk moustaches.

Faith turned her head their way, "You know it's rude to stare right?"

There was no answer, but some nudging was going around the table of four boys and two girls. Eventually, the youngest looking of the boys piped up with,

"You're one of them ain't cha?"

"One of what?" she asked, mildly interested in their intensity.

"One of them wimin from Camp Creepy," he told her as he scuffed the toes of his sneakers on the floor below the table.

"My dad says you're all freaks," One of the other boys told her conversationally before she could answer. "Freaks from the circus like the incredible bendy woman and the bearded lady."

"What did you call me?" Faith asked, her amusement waning.

"A freak from the circus," he told her patiently. "Is it true?"

"My dad says you was a bunch of furrin pantiwasters." A little girl told her innocently. "And probably hippies."

"Well if you're furriners you're probably terrorists too," a bespectacled boy said in a know-it-all voice. He was the kind of boy Faith would have beaten up in kindergarten. "My Gramps said all furriners are terrorists because they hate Americans."

This statement seemed to bring some awe to the kids and they all looked at her a little more nervously than before. Faith stared back, dumbfounded.

"Nah I still think she's from the circus," the second girl said with a cruel smile. "Because of the smell." She wrinkled her nose as she said this.

"What?" Faith looked around worriedly. "I don't smell."

"Yeah you do," a boy informed her. All the kids began to climb down from their table. "You smell like an elephant."

Faith didn't know how to respond to that because she had no idea what an elephant smelled like.

"Nah, she smells like a monkey!" The first little girl grinned and the other kids started to laugh.

"Hey!"

"Yeah, a monkey's butt!" Another of the four foot comedians giggled.

"Come here ya little…" Faith lunged half-heartedly out of her chair for the nearest brat and all six of them took off across the diner and out of the door. She could hear them calling to each other from outside as they still tried to decide what she smelled like.

"Fricken kids," Faith muttered to herself and then looked down at herself with a grimace. She couldn't go and see Buffy smelling like a monkey's butt!

Gina returned with a mug of coffee and two plates balanced on her arm. "Here you go, m'dear."

She set all of it down in front of Faith, whose eyes widened appreciatively at the huge plate of breakfast and the gooey blueberries spilling from the sides of the fat slice of pie.

"Thanks." Faith dug in, wolfing down eggs and bacon.

"Wow, you're hungry," Gina remarked. She was cleaning the kids table, collecting glasses empty of anything but froth and wiping up the spills of strawberry milkshake.

"Yeah," Faith mumbled with her mouth full.

"Sorry if the kids were bothering you," Gina apologised. Faith waved her hand to indicate it didn't matter. "They always get a touch restless this time of year. Once most of the tourists are gone, they don't know what to do with themselves on the weekends."

"Mmm," Faith replied non-commitantly. If they took their boredom out on her again, she'd damn well give them something to do!

"So whereabouts are you staying?" Gina had finished cleaning the table. Tucking the cloth back into her pouch, she picked up the tray of glasses with one hand and turned to face Faith.

"Uh…" Faith wasn't sure she wanted to mention Sunset Camp again. No one seemed to have much love for the place. She'd received a better reception from Cordelia Chase when she'd jumped fresh out of jail than she had so far received from the people of Boudenver. "…Not sure yet. I've just arrived."

"Oh." Gina seemed to give Faith a proper look for the first time, no doubt taking in her grungy appearance and the monkey smell. "So are you planning on vacationing around here or are you just passing through?"

"We'll see," Faith replied. She finished her plateful and pushed it away from her. "That was great, thanks."

"You're welcome," Gina said automatically, her nose wrinkling. "Uh, I suppose you can pay for it?"

"Of course I can pay for it," Faith told her indignantly. "I wouldn't have ordered it otherwise."

She saw Gina eyeing her piece of pie and snatched the plate towards her before the waitress could take it back. Seeing the woman wasn't moving Faith reached into her top pocket and pulled out her money, slapping it on to the table next to her.

"There ya go, take it now." Faith told her, digging her fork into the pie. "And I gotta say I'm really not feeling the warm hospitality vibes coming from this place. How'd ya know I'm not from Zagat's, huh?"

"Look, I didn't mean to be rude…"

"Really?" Faith had a hard time believing that.

"It's just that this is a tourist town and having vagrants hanging around in the back of your vacation snaps isn't something people want a lot of," Gina told her.

"Well I don't see anyone pointing a camera this way," Faith fumed as she ate her pie.

"In my experience drifters cause nothing but trouble in small town communities like ours." Gina bristled at Faith's tone which was fine because Faith was bristling all over already. "I'm sure your lifestyle is as good as any, but strangers don't mix well with the folk around here."

"Maybe if the folk around here weren't so judgemental, strangers wouldn't cause trouble for you." Faith finished her coffee, stood up and grabbed the remains of the pie from her plate.

Leaving the money lying on the table, she walked to the door and opened it. The other two customers were looking up at her now, probably waiting to see if she was going to do any circus tricks. Neither of them looked friendly.

"Any of you know where I can get a free shower?" she asked, looking around at them all.

"Cleveland?" Gina smirked pointedly as she counted the money Faith had left.

"Whatever." Faith let the door close behind her and took a minute just standing out in the parking lot finishing the last few bites of her pie.

She looked back down the road the way she had come, contemplating taking Gina's advice and just walking back to Cleveland, but as much as she'd already grown to hate this place, she dismissed the idea of ditching immediately.

"You had better be very pleased to see me, B," Faith muttered to herself, mentally adding Gina's name to the list of people's asses she was going to kick if Buffy wasn't.

If this was a tourist town there would be a hotel or somewhere near where she could hopefully charm someone into letting her use a shower, or maybe she could just find a swimming pool to jump into.

There was a man outside the shop next door. Faith only noticed him when he started sweeping in her direction. He was old and uninteresting, in his sixties with white hair and a hundred grandpa wrinkles lining his face. He used the broom vigorously enough though, proving he had plenty of strength left in his old body.

Faith was about to look away, the shop held no interest for her now she had no money left, when the old guy looked up at her with a friendly smile.

"Hello Miss," he greeted her, continuing to sweep dust from the front of his shop on to the parking lot of the diner.

"Hey," Faith replied, wondering when this guy was going to start abusing her for standing there

"New in town?" he asked.

His voice was mellifluous and slightly accented, making Faith think of the past. Of snowy forests and toymakers and… yodelling?

Weird.

"Yeah, what of it?" she answered his question, not in the mood to take anyone else's bullshit.

"Nothing, nothing," he promised, still smiling. "I am simply extending to you a typical warm Boudenver welcome, Miss."

"Yeah well it's about time someone did," Faith sniffed.

"Would you like a present?" The old man suddenly asked.

Faith stepped back warily, half expecting him to pull her present out of his pants. "Hell no."

The old man lost his smile for just a second as he tried to work out her reaction. Shrugging it off, the smile came back and he stepped aside to reveal one of the big baskets of goods Faith had noticed earlier.

"Would you like to pick something as a welcome gift?" he asked.

Faith looked into the bargain bin. It was full of washing powder, plastic dust-pans, dish cloths and various types of cleaning product.

She raised an eyebrow at the store man, "You always this generous to new people?"

"Only the ones I think are worth it," he told her with a small wink.

Holding his gaze she tentatively reached into the basket and pulled out a big economy sized bar of unscented soap. "Can I have this?"

"Of course," he beamed. "And that particular product comes with a free gift. Just one moment please."

He handed Faith the broom and disappeared into the shop. Faith wondered what kind of place gave away a free gift with a free gift, but if this was a regular occurrene maybe Boudenver had its good points after all.

The shopkeeper returned carrying a rolled towel in his hands. He handed it to her as he took back the broom. "It has a picture of the lake on it," he told her.

"Thanks," Faith didn't know what else to say so she just stood there holding the big bar of soap in one hand and the thick, fluffy towel in the other.

"The road you want is that way." He actually pointed away from the road altogether and towards an alley just a little further up the street. "Take you right there, the scenic route." He said the word 'route' so it rhymed with 'boot'.

She wanted to ask how he knew where she was going and what made him think she was worth two free gifts when everyone else in town thought she was scum, but the old man had returned to his sweeping and she had a feeling she wouldn't get a straight answer out of him anyway.

"Thanks." She headed for the shadowy alley.

* * *

The last of the little Pixies shouted something impolite to the three girls as he filed out after his friends; Rona sneered and slammed the dormitory door after him.

Alison collapsed onto her bed and stretched out staring at the wooden ceiling above. "Miranda and Cici are not going to believe what happened tonight when I tell them." She yawned, "Wonder why they finally gave up?"

"Dunno, they must have received some signal from their mothership the way they just dropped everything and left," Rona shrugged, she couldn't really care less why they were gone, she was just happy they finally were. It had been a long night of standing their ground and nothing much else.

"They didn't actually drop everything, they dropped me," Naomi reminded them.

The watcher was standing by one of the big windows looking out at the sunny morning. Rona hadn't even realised that the sun was up. She flicked the overhead electric light off now it wasn't needed.

"Well I'm sure you didn't hurt yourself too bad from the six inch drop," Rona said sarcastically and then turned to the only one of them who had been seriously hurt. "How's your nose?" she asked Alison.

"Pierced," Alison grinned, gently touching the tiny hole made by the Pixie's crossbow; it was still crusty with dried blood. "My dad is going to kill me if it isn't all healed next time I see him. He didn't even like me getting my ears done when I was thirteen."

"You know, I think there is someone out there," Naomi peered more intently out of the window.

"Probably someone coming to see where we've been all night," Rona said, unbothered as she got her stuff ready to take into the house for a shower.

"No," Naomi said firmly. "They appear to be lying on the ground."

This made Rona wander over and Alison dragged herself off of the bed to join them at the window.

"Who is it?" Alison asked as the three of them looked at the prone figure lying just a few yards from the back of the training barn.

Rona shook her head.

"Well it appears to be male, but it isn't a cadet." Naomi said.

"Well it ain't Xander," said Rona after a moment. "Size is all wrong and unless he decided to go blonde overnight, the hair's wrong too."

All three continued to stare at the naked young man on the grass before them.

"So are we waiting to see if he performs any tricks?" Alison eventually asked.

"Come on." Rona lead the way out of the dormitory.

When all three girls were standing over the naked, sandy-haired guy outside, Rona nudged him with her toe. There was no reaction so she did it again, rocking his shoulder back and forth.

"Hey, dude, are you okay?" Alison asked, leaning over him. "Do you think we should check his pulse?" She asked the other two.

"He's quite fit, isn't he? If he requires mouth to mouth, I know it," Naomi offered, failing to keep her smile in check.

"Nai, he's naked!" Alison gave her a reproachful grin.

"Yes, I noticed." Naomi smiled back, appreciatively running her eyes over the curled up naked man's body just as he twisted onto his back, stretching his arms above him. "Oh my," she murmured, blushing as she received an eyeful of more than she had expected.

Their voices seemed to be disturbing his slumber but he wasn't completely awake yet.

"Hey pal, time to wake up and smell the fact that an English chick is about to eat you for elevenses," Rona clicked her fingers above his face. "Whatever the hell that is."

"Mmm," he twisted a little as he stretched languidly until something seemed to pain him. His hand went to a small purple bruise in the centre of his chest rubbing it gently as he opened his eyes.

"Finally," Rona sighed. "So I know you have a good explanation for mistaking our garden for a nudist beach – let's hear it."

He blinked a few times, taking a few minutes to work out where he was before he seemed fully awake.

"Actually I do," he promised, sitting up and covering his manhood. "But believe me when I say you wouldn't believe me." He paused, sniffing delicately, "Or perhaps you would."

He stood up careful to keep his hands covering himself. Naomi nudged Alison and pointed to his butt with a grin. Alison blushed a bright red and looked away with a smirk.

"You're a Slayer," he stated to Rona. "So I'm guessing you know about werewolves."

"How do you know I'm a Slayer?" she asked, regarding him with suspicion.

Anyone outside of their immediate circle who knew about the slayer thing was to be considered a threat. Guilty until proven innocent were Giles orders, at least for the time being until they were all more settled into their new lives. The fact that this guy had turned up bare-assed outside their bedroom and claimed to be a werewolf, probably the one they'd been hearing all night, wasn't doing a lot to assuage Rona's reservations.

"I don't know exactly, your scent is just a little different to other girls." He looked about him and then down at himself. "I don't suppose you have any clothes I could borrow."

"You still haven't told us why you don't have any," Rona pointed out crossing her arms, perfectly happy to wait for an explanation all day if she had to; after all she was fully dressed.

"I got caught short," he explained simply. "I was expecting to be back in my apartment before exposed became an issue."

"Oh Rona, let him borrow something of ours, where's the harm," Naomi gently brushed his shoulder with her fingertips as she added, "It's this way; let's find something to cover up that lovely body of yours."

He didn't seem to know what to say to that.

"So you're a werewolf, huh?" Alison asked, as the three of them escorted the stranger to their dormitory.

"Some of the time," he said and stood to one side holding the barn door open for her.

"Can I have one of your teeth, to wear on a leather strap around my neck?" she asked next.

"You want one of my teeth?" he asked, clearly surprised. Rona gave her a weird look too.

"Yeah, one of the wolf ones not one of your regular ones." Alison explained.

"Are you a witch?" he asked.

"Nope," she promised. "So can I?"

"I'm gonna have to say no, sorry."

"So if I was a witch you'd let me?" Alison asked, wondering if Willow would teach her the basics.

"No, the answer would still be a no, but I'd know for future reference not to get knocked out around here."

"You don't like witches?" Alison asked as she rummaged through the travel chest at the foot of her bed.

"I don't like witches that want my teeth," he clarified. "Why _do_ you want one of my teeth?"

"I just thought it would look cool hanging around my neck," Alison shrugged.

"Anyway," Naomi rolled her eyes at the man. "Why don't we get you some clothes?" She went to her rucksack and began pulling apparel from the giant bag, looking for anything that would be suitable.

Rona grudgingly began doing the same, but her choice was even more limited. All she owned at the moment was the things she had returned from Africa with and she'd had to travel very light while out there.

Alison, probably the most tomboyish of the three girl's was shorter and slimmer than their bare naked guest so although she eagerly looked through her chest of belongings she already knew she wouldn't have anything that fit.

The man stood by the closed door of the converted barn covering himself modestly and patiently waiting.

"Here try this," Naomi held out a fuzzy pink Mohair jumper. "This should cover you up nicely,"

He took it, holding it up to give it a closer inspection and deciding he had resorted to wearing worse under similar circumstances. The knitted jumper clung to his torso and was a little itchy. It hung to groin level, not quite hiding anything.

Pushing the long sleeves up to his elbows, he said, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," Naomi smiled. "I think it looks rather good on you, don't you think girls?"

Alison looked over, "You look like a giant Marshmallow, but then Marshmallow's look good to me," she grinned.

"Cool," his lips tilted upwards.

"I'm afraid none of my trousers will fit you," Naomi apologised as she looked over her clothes again.

"Here, try this," Rona reluctantly handed over a bright turquoise and cerise sarong. "That'll cover everything you need covering."

"Thanks," he smiled gratefully and the girl's turned their heads while he wrapped it around his waist.

"Comfortable?" Rona asked.

"A little too comfortable," he replied, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly.

"You can wear these on your feet," Alison handed him a pair of flowery flip-flops that Cici had left with her stuff.

He slipped his feet into them, nodding, "Practical."

"So as a werewolf do you have a cool name like Lonestar or Darkfang or something?" Alison asked.

He raised an eyebrow again at her suggestions, "Nothing quite that dramatic, no."

"So what is it?" Rona asked.

"Commonly… It's Oz."

* * *

Craig was underneath the desk in the Magic room. Ages ago he and Peter had set up opposing camps at either end of the room as far from each other as possible. Peter was sat with his back to the door and Craig figured that if one of the werewolves finally crashed through the window glass onto the wooden desk, it would see the obnoxious cadet first.

Being stuck in the small room all night wouldn't have been so bad if it wasn't for his company. Aside for a few psychotic mass murderers, he couldn't imagine anyone worse to be trapped with than Peter Jones.

At first it hadn't been too bad as they'd silently listened to the growling, snarling and other unpleasant noises made by the two werewolves fighting outside. Craig didn't know why the two beasts had turned on each other, but he had really wanted to poke his head above the window sill to watch the supernatural phenomenon. He hadn't gotten up the guts to do it though.

After some whining and whimpering the sounds had eventually died out.

"Do you think they're gone," Craig had whispered from the shadow of the desk.

"How am I supposed to know," Peter answered tiredly. "Why don't you poke your head out and find out."

"Because if ones just killed the other, he might fancy my head for pudding."

"Then we'll know they aren't both gone, won't we?" Peter said. "And you'll finally have done something your mother can be proud of."

Craig thought about that for a minute, but couldn't see where the other boy was coming from. "How do you work that out?"

"Well, your death would be for the greater good of getting me out of this box of bloody pot purée," he waved a hand at the shelves of magikal ingredients; some of them did smell quite strong. "It would be a gallant death in a way," he smirked. "Which is more than can be said for your life now, en't it?"

"You really think your life would be considered the greater good?" Craig sneered. "You're no more noble than me, Jones. Just 'cause your dad has a bought and bribed for hoity-toity title doesn't make you any better than I am."

"If you say so," Peter smiled unpleasantly. "But my father isn't in a mental hospital, my mother isn't living on benefits and I'm not a poofy pillow-biter. So all in all, I'd say I'm doing a little better than, don'tcha think?"

Craig was seething at the insults to his parents, but with clenched fists he strove to rise above it. A scrap in the confined space would not only cause a commotion he didn't want, but might also cause expensive breakages – not something he wanted to have to foot the bill for.

"Yes, but Peter sweetheart," he began, putting on a snobby accent. "Your dad was vice-head of the Council's murder-squad, not exactly a reputable profession. Your mum has to pop a cocktail of pills every day to stop her from going around telling everyone she's the first female Doctor Who. And you, my dear, are just jealous that I'm getting plenty of action and your virgin body has yet to know the touch of either a man or a woman." Craig pointed out. "Those in glass houses, Petey."

"She doesn't think she's Doctor Who!"

Dawn had broken at some point and Craig could see by the grey light filtering through the window that he'd hit a sore subject.

"She thinks she can time-travel," Craig said. "She keeps trying to convince people she can time-travel by taking them into the old fashioned red phone-box down the lane from your house!"

"Will you stop talking out of your arse!" Peter spat, looking like he wanted to curl in a ball and cry. "You know nothing about my mother!"

"Pete, she took Naomi's mum in the other week." Craig told him more gently. "Mrs Ramstock was worried it might actually work and she wouldn't be back in time to get the 'help' to cook tea."

Peter made a sound that was almost a laugh, "You're a prick, man. You know that?"

"Yeah well you're a lot worse than me," Craig replied honestly.

"Yeah, but what are you doing here?" Peter asked. "I mean, you hate Watchers, your whole family does, so why are you here with us? What's in it for you?"

"I came for a holiday," Craig said. His pockets were still uncomfortably full of the stolen ingredients and his hands went to them now, rubbing once over the bulges to reassure himself he hadn't lost anything climbing in and out of the window. "To see Mr Giles."

"Yeah, but he don't know you're even here does he?" Peter's voice had taken on its usual sly undertones again. "We all noticed how you've been avoiding him. Thought at first that you just wanted to spend more time with your geek boyfriend, but it's more than that, innit?"

"No," Craig shifted his position under the table uneasily. "He's just been busy with you lot."

"Nah, there's more to it. You're not James Bond, but you've been trying to be all week." Peter licked his lips. "Come on, tell me. Have you finally decided to give girls a go and put Naomi out of her misery? Good idea that, getting her well away from old Charlie Ramstock before putting it to her."

"Okay, now I feel sick," Craig complained. "And don't talk about Nai like that behind her back."

"Yeah well if I talked about her like that in front of her, she'd kick my arse," Peter admitted with a chuckle. "If she wasn't so stuck up herself, I'd give her one that's for sure."

"She would never give you a fraction of a one," Craig promised. "And if you're so sure I'm up to something why haven't you told Mr Giles then?"

"More fun this way at the moment," Peter shrugged. "Stay entertaining…"

A loud thundering of feet cut the cadet off as someone bolted past overhead and muffled shouting could be heard as well.

Peter looked up at the ceiling and Craig scooted out from under the desk to stare upwards too.

"Do you think they got in?" he asked, meaning the wolves. A shiver of fear ran down his spine at the thought of the vicious beasts loose in the house.

"Dunno," Peter shook his head, he'd gone pale. "Seems like the trouble ain't over yet though."

The two teenage boys looked at each other realising that meant they were stuck together for even longer.

They both groaned to themselves, "Great!"

* * *

_To be continued..._

Thanks for reading.

Next update will be within the next two weeks.


	12. Act 4:2

It was darker than a deep cave on a cloudy night. Nothing moved in the wind that blew because nothing could move in the thickness of this space. No sound could be heard but the wind blowing through nothing on its way to nowhere.

The watchers hung suspended in the treacle-like nothingness; lucid flies trapped in sticky darkness, unable to see or hear or move, but fully aware of their dire predicament.

* * *

"So what's it going to be?" Buffy repeated coldly, fighting the urge to squeeze the Pixie too hard.

"I have told you Giglet, I don't know if it is possible to bring them back," Beryan held her gaze. "When the spell was broken in such an untimely fashion, their very essence was released into the ether. They are no longer in one place but in every place."

"What?" Buffy didn't know what that meant, but it didn't sound good.

"They're not tied to the mortal plane anymore, so the chances of getting everyone back in the same shape they left are somewhere between fifty and a gazillion to one." Willow explained with a nervous glance at the fire. Xander and Vi had had to stand back from the heat and the bed burned uninhibitedly.

"The spell was supposed to teleport them from this location to another in England, right?" Willow continued. "So what it does is take them from this location, figuratively pulls them along a wire through time and space and shoots them back out at the desired location."

"But they haven't popped out of the other end?" Buffy asked. "Why haven't they popped out at the other end?"

"Because I broke the wire." Willow grimaced. "When I interrupted the spell the wire snapped and now all of them are… flapping around loose."

"Giles is so not gonna like that, what with his neat-freak tendencies and all," Xander wiped his forehead with his shirt-sleeve. "So I say we figure a way to get him back before he can get mad at us."

"Or we could not bring him back and then he won't be able to get mad at us," Dawn suggested.

Buffy turned to glare at her sister, "Don't ever make jokes about leaving Giles in the ether! Can he hear me?" she asked Willow. "GILES!"

"No, he can't hear you." Beryan used a tone that suggested Buffy was stupid, Buffy squeezed a little tighter but the Pixie didn't seem bothered. "He has passed over the threshold of this world."

"So he's dead?" Xander asked. Now he looked sick but it could have been to do with the poisonous fumes coming from the flaming mattress.

"No, just stranded." Beryan told him.

"But bringing him back could kill him; all of them," Willow finished miserably and Beryan nodded.

"Okay, I think not good is an understatement," Kennedy said. "It sounds to me like you're saying they're flapping around outside of space and time, loose between dimensions. In limbo, is that it?"

"Pretty much," Willow frowned.

"So tell me how burning down my bedroom is going to help with that?" Kennedy demanded taking Buffy by surprise. As she spoke the bed collapsed beneath the weight of the flames. "Shit!"

They all stepped further back.

Buffy made a growling noise in her throat as the frustration swelled within. She had no vested interest in this house at all and the idea of it going up in smoke wasn't a bad one in her mind. It meant she could leave for one thing. They'd only been here a couple of months and the place already held nothing but bad memories for her.

The others seemed to have settled down quite happily, or if not happily then they'd at least already worn familiar grooves for themselves. Giles was her familiar groove, or something that sounded a little less incestuous. This place _was_ Giles to her; it was what was keeping him from going back to his better life in England. If he wasn't there then she didn't much care if the whole place burned to the ground.

"Well the chances are less than a gazillion to one if you won't even try," she pointed out furiously.

"Please, will you help me try?" Willow urgently asked Beryan who was still caught in Buffy's fist. "Maybe together we can reach them."

"If it were possible to locate them I still would not have the necessary power to bring them back as they left," Beryan said.

"Well then we're in luck, 'cause I have oodles of power," Willow's smile returned briefly.

"Then let us try." Beryan shrugged. "Just Buffee, if you please."

Buffy wasn't sure, but she set the Pixie leader down anyway. "Okay, but if I don't see some Giles soon…" she left the threat hanging and turned to the fire.

Whoa okay, she hadn't realised it was burning quite so fiercely, she'd been too intent on the Pixie. The bed was just a lump of charcoal now, a black heart to the hot orange mass. The walls and carpet around it were rapidly blackening. With the windows and the doors shut the smoke was starting to reach intolerable levels; Dawn and Xander were beginning to cough.

Buffy knew it wasn't fair of her to let this new start go up in flames for them all; she didn't want be responsible a second time for her friends and family losing not just their homes but all of their worldly possessions too. Right now she couldn't a thing to help get Giles back, but she could save his home so he had something worth returning to.

"Okay, Xander grab a bucket from somewhere," she shouted, leaping into action. It felt good after so long with no action at all. "We'll make a chain from the kitchen. Dawn, I want you at the bottom in case the floor collapses. Go!"

"But it's okay for us to be up here when the floor collapses," Kennedy asked as she hovered close to Willow, who was busy collecting spell ingredients from her drawers.

"Kenny, more fire-fighting, less whining," Buffy went to open the bedroom door. "You can complain about the evils of favouritism when we're done."

She yanked the door open causing the flames to leap towards the ceiling scarily in the draught. Almost immediately the shrill beeping of the fire alarm practically deafened everyone.

"You can do the spell in my room," Xander shouted to Willow. "It'll be safer than staying here."

"No," Beryan's clear voice sounded above the roar of the fire and the strident alarm. "If we want any chance of reaching the skurry watchers we must cast from here."

"She's right," Willow realised. "Not about the watchers being skurry, whatever that means, but if we're to send out an ethereal search team we need to do from the spot where they were originally lost."

"Okay, well stay in the corner, open the windows to get some fresh air in here," Buffy instructed as she started out the door. "The rest of us will get this under…"

Buffy tripped over something in the doorway, cutting her words off with a mild curse. She looked to see what had wound around her feet and screamed loud enough to rival the alarm. "Snake!"

The slippery green thing that wound itself around her feet soon showed its true colours, with a shout of "Noor!" water shot from the snake's mouth towards the bed.

"Garden hose!" Dawn shrieked in an imitation of her sister's shout while she offered Buffy a hand up.

Buffy took the help, "Hey, nerves running high here. I saw something green winding itself around me in a snake-like fashion and I jumped to conclusions, sue me."

"Should we still make a chain?" Xander asked as everyone but Willow and Beryan hovered on the landing, peering through the doorway.

"I don't know, they seem to have it under control," Vi motioned at the little purple fire-fighters wielding the long hose like much taller professionals.

"Buffy, what do we do if Willow can't get Giles back?" Dawn asked in an uneasy whisper.

Buffy shook her head and she was only half joking when she said, "Wait 'til the place dries out and then go get the matches?"

* * *

Faith been walking forever again. Over fields of nothing by wild grass, along rusted and forgotten train tracks and through patchy woods and dense forest. No matter what the terrain the ground was always sloping one way or the other. It was starting to make her feel seasick.

It had all been worth it though once she saw IT. In fact it made the whole cross-country nightmare worth every second and maybe if Buffy did reject her on the spot, Faith could just buy a tent and come and live out here until her parole was up.

What she had found was a waterfall or sorts. A beautiful pool surrounded by candy-coloured wild flowers into which a stream as fresh as any alpine bottled water fell with a loud splashing sound that was kinda soothing.

Hot and thirsty after the long walk she'd already drunk a gallon of it and was now shedding her clothes ready to hop in. She could see the pool wasn't deep at all, but if she sat down she could have a very shallow bath and then wash her hair in the fall afterwards.

She couldn't get her clothes off fast enough.

Her find was in a little clearing between the trees and the sun was hot on her back as she peeled off her shirt and dropped it on top of her jacket. She was pretty sure she was the only person around for miles, but she still had a quick look around before snapping the clasp on her bra and removing that too. It wasn't that she was shy about showing her body, but this was perfect crazy-ass woodman country and she didn't want some insane axe-wielding Hillbilly coming at her when she didn't have a stitch on. Her nude fighting days were well in the past.

She had to peel her jeans down her legs, which was gross and she realised that she could shower as much as wanted, but if she was just going to put her grungy clothes back on afterwards there wasn't a whole lot of point.

With a shrug she tossed her jeans into the pool and then kicked the rest of her clothes, except her jacket, in after. She kept her panties on until the last minute, waiting until after she'd collected the soap from the log she was using as a towel rack and stepped into the pool before pushing them off and leaving them to float on top of the water.

It was with a sigh of deep satisfaction followed by a squeal at the temperature with which her body greeted the water. Once in, the water didn't seem quite so freezing and she wallowed in the low pool for a minute or two surrounded by floating clothes before she unwrapped the giant bar of plain white soap. It was the same stuff she'd used as a kid, cheap but serviceable. She flipped the wrapper away and started scrubbing the soap over herself.

The pool would have been black with dirt instantly if a thin winding stream didn't carry the used water out and off down the slope, Faith watched the soap bubbles go with it as she washed; trying not to think about anything but getting clean. One problem at a time.

Once she'd lathered and rinsed every inch, she run the bar of soap over her hair a dozen times working up a nice lot of bubbles and then scooted backwards until her head was under the steady waterfall. The fresh water falling directly onto her was freezing all over again, but Faith clenched her jaw against chattering teeth, the pleasure at finally getting clean, and washing off any monkeyness that had been clinging to her, making it worth the shock.

As soon as she was sure her hair was free of cheap soap suds, she moved back to the other side of the pool and relaxed into the water for a while.

She wondered how close to Sunset camp she was now. It couldn't have been much further or else she'd end up crossing another state line. Did Buffy know about this place? It was the kind of place Buffy would love; Faith was sure, with the pretty and the birds singing. Maybe she came down here to bathe just like Faith was now, not for the same reasons obviously; they must have a shower up at the house, but just for pleasure.

Faith relaxed some more, letting her eyes fall closed as she imagined the pleasure Buffy might have while bathing in the pool. She smiled a little, biting her lip gently as she imagined it in great, Technicolor detail.

* * *

The windows in Willow and Kennedy's bedroom were open as wide as they would go, so was the door and between them Xander and Andrew had finally shut off the fire alarm; although, not before Goorzar had freaked out again and broken one of Willow's figurines from the mantelpiece.

Kennedy hadn't told her about that yet. She didn't want to cause the red-head any more distress than she was currently under as spell after spell refused to work. She knelt behind her cross-legged lover, close enough to be on hand if the forces of darkness tried to steal Willow's goodness. Not that the young Slayer knew what she would do if that happened, but she stayed close anyway.

Buffy was perching on the vanity stool, the air was still thick with leftover smoke, but she wasn't going to be anywhere but where the action was. With every failed spell her face grew a little more pinched and her hands balled tighter and tighter at her sides.

Kennedy didn't know how much more grief the elder Slayer could handle in one week, but from the looks of her, not much.

Everyone else had been banned from the room while the spells were taking place. Partly because the room was a mess of fire damaged bed and soggy everything. The Pixies had been more than thorough while putting out the burning room. Kennedy was grateful, and a little pissed at Buffy for making them wait so long, but she'd wished the Pixies had stuck to just dousing the stuff in the room on fire. She had a feeling there was a little payback going on.

The purple fire chief had looked very similar to the Pixie Kennedy had handed over to Goorzar earlier. Not that she felt guilty, not now she knew their attack hadn't been about protecting them from werewolves but about getting rid of the watchers.

Willow and Beryan were sat on the drenched bedroom floor. Willow had had everything they needed to try and bring the lost cadets and Giles back in her drawers and cupboards which had saved her the time of finding everything in the magick room. All of Beryan's ingredients had been destroyed in the fire.

Now the two if them sat in a medative trance, eyes staring into each other and beyond as they chanted at counter points in a language Kennedy couldn't recognise. This wasn't their first attempt, but she really hoped they wouldn't have to get too much closer to the gazillionth before they got a result.

There was a pop, a whiz and fizzle, making Kennedy start backwards ever so slightly in surprise and then a cry of rage from Willow made the younger woman realise that this try had failed too.

Beryan said nothing as she calmly prepared more ingredients, using Willow's utensils like they weren't bigger than she was.

Buffy started to say something at the same time as Kennedy went to put a consoling and encouraging hand on her shoulder.

"No!" Willow shouted, stopping them both mid-movement. "Something or someone is blocking their re-entry; I can feel it!"

Tears rushed down Willow's cheeks as she shot to her feet. Kennedy blinked, unless she was seeing things due to smoke inhalation, Willow hadn't jumped to her feet so much as floated, very fast. She shook her head, but no, her girlfriend was still an inch or two above the wet-through carpet.

"Okay then," she muttered, wondering if she should stand too. She started to when Willow began to shout.

"KEEPER OF DARKNESS! MASTER OF OBLIVION! ORISIS HERE ME NOW!" She yelled at the sooty ceiling.

"Is this a part of it?" Kennedy asked nervously.

"Will!" The edge of fear in Buffy's voice had Kennedy circling her lover to see her face and what she saw froze her to the spot. The witch's eyes were a deep, fathomless black.

"Willow," she said herself.

"I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME YOU SONOFABITCH…"

The roar of a really pissed of lion seemed to come from the ceiling. Kennedy looked up again but could see nothing.

"**HOW DARE YOU SPEAK OF ORISIS IN SUCH A MANNER?**" The words were a roar too, but there was still nothing to see to her layman eyes.

"SEND THEM BACK TO ME NOW!" Willow yelled defiantly. "YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO KEEP THEM; IT IS NOT THEIR TIME TO PASS OVER. LET THEM COME BACK TO THIS WORLD SO THEY MAY COME TO YOU IN PROPER ORDER."

"**WHY SHOULD I?**" The thunderous voice asked. "**WHAT HAVE YOU EVER DONE TO DESERVE SUCH FAVOURS?**"

"THIS IS NOT ABOUT FAVOURS. IF YOU KEEP THAT WHICH IS NOT YOURS THE BALANCE WILL BE…UNBALANCED!"

"**IT IS YOUR MISTAKE WHICH SENT THEM TO ME!**" The voice returned.

"AND YOU'RE JUST KEEPING THEM TO BE PETTY!" Willow screamed back. "YOUR GRUDGE AGAINST ME SHOULD NOT PUT THE BALANCE OF THE WHOLE WORLD IN JEAPADY"

"**THEN I WILL MAKE IT PERSONAL!**" The roar was louder than ever. "**ALL THINGS HAVE A BALANCE WITCH. YOUR MISTAKE HAS UPSET MINE. I WILL RETURN THE SEEKERS OF KNOWLEDGE AND TAKE YOU IN THEIR PLACE!**"

A blinding flash of light knocked everyone across the room and Willow screamed at the top of her lungs.

"Willow!" Kennedy yelled and heard it echoed by Buffy across the room.

And then Kennedy was up, on her knees and crawling to where Willow had been even as the light winked back out. It had been so bright that she still couldn't see anything but black dots dancing before her eyes and the tears that freefell from her eyes weren't helping.

Kennedy tried to blink the tears from her eyes. Willow couldn't be gone. Not after everything they'd been through. Not when she still had so much to say to the woman she was falling so madly in love with. Willow couldn't be gone into oblivion – to the darkness between the dimensions where whoever owned that evil voice ruled.

Not Willow.

She tried to think clearly, there had to be some way out of this. Psoriasis had taken one sacrifice; he would take another wouldn't he? Beryan could call him back and Kennedy could offer herself in return instead.

As Kennedy's mind raced her vision finally cleared and what she saw drew a strangled sob from deep in her chest and then Willow's arms were around her, holding her tight and making comforting sounds in her ear.

"I thought I'd lost you!" Kennedy's voice came out strangled by her own relief and muffled by the shoulder of Willow's jumper.

Suddenly irrationally angry at the whole damn universe, she thrust Willow away from her. "What in the hell just happened?" she demanded.

"I won," Willow replied shakily. Her voice was hoarse from the shouting and screaming, there was green in her eyes again, but the darkness was taking it time to seep out. She licked her lips wearily but she had a little smirk playing on them that Kennedy hadn't seen before.

Kennedy didn't like it much and looked away, realising what Willow had meant. In various positions in the room were three dazed watcher cadets and one very distressed looking Giles. Buffy was hugging him.

She noticed Beryan had disappeared.

"That didn't sound much like winning," she turned to Willow again. "What he said sounded a lot like – you lose!"

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Willow smirked cockily.

"Yeah I suppose," Kennedy murmured running a hand through her hair.

She gave Willow a small unsure smile before going to check on the cadets.

* * *

Giles had a headache, which he supposed, wasn't that big a complaint considering what he had been through.

He sat now in the kitchen with the others, holding an icepack to the lump on his head and nursing a cup of tea, listening to everyone tell of their night's adventures. It was all quite extraordinary, but he was mostly concerned with Willow, who wasn't speaking much at all.

She too seemed to have a headache and was shaking ever so slightly. It was probably un-noticeable to everyone except him and he only knew because he was looking for it.

Xander was possibly aware too as he sat with his arm around the girl's shoulders, listening to Buffy and Kennedy recount the spell that had brought himself and the cadets back from oblivion.

Kennedy, while sat very close to Willow, wasn't touching her partner in any way. Something that was very unusual these days.

Once the tale was finished the kitchen appeared too shrouded by the silence that followed. Hardly a wonder considering the threat Orisis had made to Willow. Giles knew of course about the Willow's previous encounter with the Great Lord of the darker planes and this new development troubled him deeply; despite her constant reassurances that she had won this round.

Orisis was not someone to be taken lightly.

Cheerful voices from outside broke the heavy silence and seemed to stir everyone inside the kitchen out of the funk they'd fallen into.

Giles looked to the open door, wincing at the pain in his head, just as Rona came into the room with Alison and Naomi.

"Are you girls alright," he asked at once, his gaze going to Naomi first.

"Yeah apart from being held prisoner in our own bedroom for the whole night," Rona replied cheerfully enough. She went straight to the cookie jar. "Man, I'm hungry."

"There's been a lot of that going around." Willow said with a tired smile. Suddenly she sat up straight, her eyes turning saucer-like as she stared at the door, her mouth hanging open.

Giles, concerned, turned to see what had caused such surprise, but at first saw no one but the three slayers and Naomi. That was odd, he was sure that only Rona and Alison had been missing from the kitchen. Had there been a new arrival while he was stranded in limbo?

It took his brain a second to catch up with his eyes and he put his glasses - gratefully received from Vi - back on for a closer look at the newcomer and then his eyes were wide too.

"Hey," said a familiar voice.

"Well if it isn't the great and terribly-hard-to-track Oz!" Xander rose from his seat next to Willow and went to his old friend. He stopped just short of him and gave the shorter man a good look. "I don't think you can say you're too manly to hug now," he smirked, and did just that.

Oz hugged back briefly and then they both stepped away from each other smirking. "How's it going, Xan?"

"Oz!" Willow still sounded weak and she made no move to get up, but her face had lit up the second she had recovered her surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"That depends on your definition of here," Oz smiled at her. "And actually both are kind of long stories."

Giles placed the icepack on the table next to his teacup and rose gingerly to shake the young man's hand. "It's good to see you."

"You too."

His hand shake was strong, telling of strength you wouldn't expect for his size. Giles took in his outfit, trying not to let curiosity show on his face.

Buffy wasn't so refined, of course, "Nice outfit, Oz. Very new man of you, or should that be new woman?" she smirked playfully.

"You never told me he was a cross-dresser too," Kennedy sat back in her chair, glaring at him.

"He's not, or he wasn't. Are you?" Willow asked nervously.

"Willow, that's really not important," Giles began, hoping to save the man from any embarrassment.

"It's okay Giles," Oz smirked. "No, it was just either this or my birthday suit and for some reason…" he looked down at the fuzzy pink jumper and turquoise sarong "…I thought this would raise fewer eyebrows."

"You were so wrong," Buffy giggled.

"So I see," Oz looked around the room and Giles saw him realise just how many strangers were in the kitchen with them. "Hey guys," he greeted the three watcher cadet's that were all looking at him like he was the Widow Twanky looking for a pantomime.

Giles started as a thought occurred to him. Quickly he counted everyone present. There were definitely only four cadets in the kitchen.

"Oh good lord, where on earth is bloody Peter now?" he groaned.

Reece looked around, as if counting everyone himself. His face fell when he realised his friend wasn't there, "Shit!"

"Agreed," Giles said wearily.

* * *

When the fire alarm had gone off Craig had hit the deck, not realising what it was at first. Peter had been only a second behind him.

They'd laid there for a few minutes listening to the shrill beeping.

"Shouldn't we be getting out of her instead of waiting to burn to death?" Peter had asked eventually.

He had a point. Both of them jumped back to their feet and Craig moved to open the window. Except it wouldn't; it was stuck fast in the frame. He tried several times before Peter shoved him to one side.

"Get out of the way you puny little twerp." Peter had tried several times too, but the window wasn't moving.

Obviously when Craig had slammed it shut hours before and with the werewolf bouncing off the side of the house so many times, it had been wedged into place.

Panicked, Peter had then gone to bang on the door to get someone's attention.

"No!" Craig had tried to stop him, but Peter just shoved him out of the way again.

"I am not getting cremated in this stinking room with you," he said.

His banging hadn't brought anyone to the rescue anyway and seconds later the alarm had stopped.

"Think that's a good sign?" Craig had asked.

"You ask a lot of stupid questions, don't you Rayne? I'm trapped in the same flippin' room as you!"

"I was only asking your opinion," Craig spat back. "Christ, you really don't do well under pressure do you?"

Peter had swatted at his head then, but Craig smacked his hand away. They stared at each other.

Craig thought for a moment he was going to have to fight after all, and a part of him actually relished the thought of punching the knob-head in the face. He'd have to make it count because he'd probably only get one shot before Peter pounded him into mincemeat, but it would be worth it.

"You ain't man enough," Peter sneered.

"I'm too much man for you Petey," Craig's heart was beating way to fast.

"Come on…"

There was a loud shout from above them that sounded very much like Willow Rosenburg and it sounded like she was pretty pissed off.

"Was that..?" Peter began before a roar cut him off again.

The sound was so loud and intense it shook the walls of the magick room and Craig suddenly found Peter was clinging to him! What made it even worse was that he was clinging to Peter just as tightly.

"What the hell..?" Peter began, but the roar came again, drowning out his words and sending both of them to their knees.

"We need to get out of here." It was Craig hammering on the door this time, not bothered about being discovered anymore as long as he could get away from whatever was making that awful gut-twisting racket.

Peter wasted no time in beating his own fists against the door, but still no one came to help them. They probably couldn't even be heard above the roar. As it came again, Craig gave up on the door and dived for cover under the desk. If the house came down around them it wouldn't offer much protection, but more than none.

Peter joined him under there and they sat as close as they could to each and buried their heads in their arms while they waited for whatever was coming to come.

When the bellowing from above finally ended, Craig peeked out from under the desk. Everything was still standing.

"Do you think its over?" he asked in a whisper.

"You want my opinion?" Peter asked, speaking just as quietly.

"Yes."

"Then no, I don't think it's over. I think this house is built on pure bloody evil and it's making them Piskies bloody insane," Peter said, his words coming out fast and shaky. "And I think they've killed every other bugger in this house. And I think the werewolves got everyone outside the house. But I _know_ I ain't going nowhere until her flippin' Majesty's secret service comes and gets me."

"Now who thinks they're James Bond," Craig replied with smirk.

"Shut up."

"Could you at least not squeeze my arm so tight?" Craig winced as Peter deliberately squeezed him tighter.

"Stop being a pansy."

"I'm quite happy being a pansy," Craig replied. "I just don't want to be a bruised pansy."

"Fine, you let go of my leg and I'll let go of your arm," Peter sighed.

"What?" Craig asked, looking innocently confused. "I haven't got my hand on your leg."

"Arrh!" Peter gave a little shriek and started slapping at the mysterious hand on his lower thigh, trying to get it off, and smacking his head on the bottom of the desk in the process.

Craig gripped Peter's thigh harder, laughing at his reaction. "And you call me a pansy, what does that make you then Pete?"

"Get off," Peter pushed him away. "I nearly wet myself then yer little prick."

"Whose bloody hand did you think it was then?" Craig was still laughing. "Did you think Thing had somehow escaped from Cemetery Ridge to attack us?"

"You ain't noticed it then?" Peter asked.

"What?"

Peter pointed to a shelf high up the wall, upon which was sat a pristine Mummy hand.

* * *

The kitchen had erupted into a state of near panic again as they realised that Peter was still missing.

Naomi seemed especially agitated, which seemed odd to Giles, he was sure they weren't in any way close. Maybe they'd recently discovered an attraction for each, he was appalled to think it could be so, but stranger things had happened. Buffy falling for Spike for example.

He tried to calm her now with promises that they would find the boy safe and well.

"Shush!" Buffy ordered. He stopped speaking, but others were slow to respond. "I said: Shush."

"Actually you didn't really say it…" started Andrew. He was looking rather frazzled with the situation too, which was even stranger to Giles.

Buffy held up a hand to silence him and went to the door to the magic room. "Someone's in here," she whispered.

"Pixies?" asked Kennedy, standing up.

"Don't think so." Buffy tried the door but it was locked.

Willow produced a key which she handed to Kennedy, who in turn handed it to Buffy.

Buffy slid it into the lock, turned it and with a quiet click the door opened. She pushed it wide and Giles joined her on the threshold to see who the trespassers were this time.

The two boys inside stopped dead as the door opened caught in the act of Craig chasing Peter around the small space with a dormant Mummy hand.

"Oh for goodness sake," Giles exclaimed, his headache coming back tenfold as he spotted Craig.

"Bugger it." Craig muttered. Realising the game was up, because the only way out of this would be to break into a run and keep going until he reached English shores. He looked up at the old guy with a cheeky grin that made mothers want to pinch his cheeks. "Alright Uncle Rubear. I've come over for a bit. Mum says to say hello, or she would have if she knew I was here."

Giles thought he might fall over with the shock of it all. How many years had it been since he had last seen this boy. Too many and not enough all wrapped up together, and now what he was supposed to do?

"You alright? You don't look so good..." Craig chirped giving Giles face a close inspection, looking for a greenish tinge perhaps.

Did he give the boy a hug? Shake his hand? Put him over his knee and give him a thorough hiding before sending him back to England?

"Craig, go and phone your mother and tell her you are safe." That was a start and it was as good as any, Giles thought as he despairingly removed his glasses, running a hand over his forehead and wincing as it aggravated his lump.

_tbc..._


	13. Act 4:3

_Act four continued..._

It was an hour later and Giles had called all of the watcher cadets into the fully renovated training barn for the final session of their stay.

The cadets were sitting on the large exercise mats Xander had bought; Giles was standing in front of them with his hands behind his back, looking very Watcherly despite his casual blue jeans and maroon cable-knit sweater. The kids were unusually quiet, but that was probably more to do with the night before than any respect for the meeting.

Tomorrow all but two of the five cadets would be leaving Sunset camp for other pastures. The two chosen to remain would work under Giles' supervision until they were deemed ready to take a Slayer of their own to their designated demonic hot-spot.

Buffy was sitting cross-legged on her favourite new toy, the trampoline, out of the way but listening in. Giles had asked her to be there and while she had as much interest in the fate of the baby watchers as she had in the drying of pain…It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

Everything seemed to have gone back to normal at Sunset Camp, or as normal as it could be considering who lived there.

The Pixies had gone into hiding, or at least as much as they ever did. She hadn't seen any since Giles and the cadets had been returned anyway.

Giles and the others had come back unharmed, well except for a lump on his head, but according to Reece he'd been knocked out before the spell began.

What Willow had done to ensure their return…? Well, Buffy wasn't too sure how she felt about that yet.

The big invisible voice had been scary enough _before_ it threatened to take Willow into the beyond. When the light had cleared and she'd realised her best friend hadn't been taken Buffy's relief had been huge, but now she was just worried that they'd inadvertently opened another can of evil worms that were going to try and kill them all at some later date.

Still, it wasn't like she had anything else to focus on around here. Hardly any vampires to slay since the night of Jupitus' failed resurrection, demons that were, for the most, pretty simple country folk – as happy eating rabbits as people, and no hope of a love-life to keep her busy either by the looks of it.

Buffy's loud sigh caught Giles' attention earning her a disapproving look. Sitting up straighter she tuned back in to what he was saying.

"Aside from last night, which I think we can all consider exceptional circumstances, your behaviour on the whole has been nothing short of appalling," Giles was saying, Buffy mentally applauded him. "I understand this has all come as a bit of a shock for you; none of you knew you would be coming over here until recently and certainly none of you were expecting to be asked to take up active duty within a few months of finishing your schooling, but even with taking that into account I still find myself dismayed by the attitude you've shown to your calling."

All of the cadets shifted uncomfortably, although Buffy didn't think Naomi or Anthony had too much to be sorry about.

"Now more than ever you must be ready and willing to stand up and accept your destinies as Watchers. The Council needs you…no, th-the world needs you to take your rightful places at the forefront of this most important fight." Giles began to pace. "You all face a road pitted with a hard and sometimes painful duty, I won't deny that, but as you walk it you will carry with you a sense of pride and achievement most men and women can never conceive of."

"All of you are capable of this greatness, not just because of who your parents may be but because you have the strength of character deep inside – some deeper than others…" Giles smiled briefly at everyone before continuing. "… to face immense trials and tribulations and overcome them for the betterment of mankind."

'_Really, this lot?' _Buffy looked around at them all, but kept her thoughts to herself.

"The crux of it is," Giles stopped pacing again to stand in the centre of the floor. "All of this is just so much lip-flapping on my behalf if you don't desire the bloody job in the first place; and judging by the performance most of you have put on over the past week, I'd wager you'd all rather be corralling trolleys at Tesco," he finished sternly.

Trolley corralling had never been included in Buffy's career day opportunities, but it drew enough dismayed shock from the cadet's that she deduced it wasn't a box she would have ticked anyway.

Giles let the lecture sink in for a minute before going on to the next item on the agenda. This was the part Buffy was looking forward to. No one knew yet who of the five would be staying.

"Okay, I'll put you out of your misery first," Giles cleared his throat. "Reece Highbury and Naomi Ramstock – you'll be staying with us for the time being; I hope that suits the both of you."

"Yes sir, thank you," Reece smiled easily, not seeming too affected by the congratulatory back-slaps Peter and Rajiv gave him.

Looking deeper though, Buffy was sure it was mostly because he was trying not to look relieved in front of them. He was probably doing cartwheels in his head, but he couldn't get excited and lose his coolness in front of his friends, because then they might realise he wasn't quite as certain of himself as they thought.

Mostly though, she just thought '_Crap_', she didn't want to have to put up with his royal smarminess for any length of time and she knew Dawn had a major crush on him which would now only get worse.

Naomi looked very happy with herself and accepted the congratulations of her peers with much more enthusiasm than Reece had. Buffy gave her a thumbs up which made the young cadet's grin double. Buffy was pleased she was staying, she was the only one who inspired any kind of confidence in her watcher abilities, plus that meant Buffy could pick her brains some more on the whole prophecy business.

"Okay settle down," Giles called them to order again. "We'll discuss what will be expected of you both in greater detail later in the week. Meanwhile if we get back to the rest of you." Giles walked to Xander's work bench, still in the corner at the back, and picked up three large manila envelopes.

"Peter Jones," he began gravely, reading from the name on the top of the pile. "You have been perhaps the worst this week, wouldn't you say?"

Peter didn't seem to know if he was supposed to answer or not. Buffy could see he was caught between a shrug of indifference and a more honest expression of apology. Another one that didn't want to lose face in front of his friends.

Giles didn't make him suffer in silence for too long, at least not as long as Buffy would have.

"I've recommended that you return to London for the time being to work under Mr Wyndam-Pryce's supervision." Peter groaned and Buffy could see the smirk Giles was hiding in his eyes. "You'll help with the Slayers stationed there; I believe there are already four or five staying in the temporary residence on his grounds. However, and please listen to me carefully, I strongly think that you should consider whether you do in fact want to be a Watcher…" Peter started to protest, but Giles held up a hand. "Please, listen to me. This isn't a judgement on your ability by any means, I believe if you were to allow yourself to grow up a little and lose the chip on your shoulder you would make a fine Watcher, but as I said before your heart has to be in it. I know you were, shall we say, badgered into joining the academy in the first place and while I wouldn't say you have wasted your time there neither have you excelled in the way that you could have."

"So what _are_ you saying?" Peter asked with a tremor in his voice.

"That if there is another career you think you would feel happier in, that you should take some time to look into the possibilities. You don't have to decide anything this week, or even this year for that matter, but I think working with Roger may make your mind up rather quickly," he smiled at the boy. "If you can stand to work with him for more than a month, then you will know you are where you should be."

Peter gave a short laugh, "And if I can't that's it, I'm not cut out to be a Watcher?"

"I never said that," Giles said softly. "I had my doubts too, like you do even if you don't feel you can admit it, when I was young, twenty-one to be precise. Things were different then of course, the academy wasn't built until the early eighties when the people in charge realised that Watcher's were becoming a rare commodity. When I was young we were expected to attend regular schools and then relentlessly pursue our Council studies after hours, so to speak. It got too much for me, at the time I believed I never wanted to be a Watcher anyway and I certainly didn't appreciate the amount of pressure my father gave me. So I rebelled; and ran away."

"So the rumours are true then?" Rajiv asked with a chuckle. "Cool."

Buffy smiled when Giles did too. Maybe if he'd told them this story at the start of the week they wouldn't have been such a handful for him.

"Well I'm glad you did," Naomi spoke up. "Or else I might never have been born."

Buffy did a double take at that. _'Huh?'_

"Anyway Peter, I'm giving you the chance that I never had." Giles continued. "If there is something in your heart that you would rather follow then you should do so. If your father has any complaints he can bring them to me and you can be sure I will turn a deaf ear to them. How is your mother by the way?"

"Uh, she's okay sir, mostly." Peter looked very awkward.

"Good, I'm pleased to hear it; and I think you'll find that if you do decide to leave the Council, one day, when you are ready, you will find your way back and be a better Watcher for it. That is what destiny is all about after all."

"So you're saying there's no escape then sir?" Peter asked sarcastically.

"Probably not, no," Giles grinned at him. "But I'm also saying you can try if you like. The Council needs one hundred percent commitment and a Slayer needs even more than that from her Watcher. If it isn't offered, then people die – sometimes a lot of people. I'd like to avoid that if possible so please think about what I have said. In the meantime, if you would please report to Mr Wyndam-Price at nine o clock sharp next Monday, I would be grateful. All the information you need is in here, please read it carefully and try to resist the urge to make spit-bombs out of it." Giles handed him a manila envelope.

Giles turned his attention from Peter and Buffy saw the kid physically slump once he was out of the limelight. He looked over at Reece who gave him a sympathetic smile and a little shrug and Peter smiled shakily back before opening his envelope.

"Anthony Milestone," Giles said next. "Well, you've done very well since you've been here and of course your grades at the academy are excellent. However with you still being only fifteen, you're too young to officially leave school, plus I think another year or two at the academy would prove beneficial to your physical training. You have a great mind, Anthony, but as I learned, Watching a Slayer requires a lot more than intellectual knowledge. I'm going to suggest to your parents that you are put in for more field practice in the next year, as much as is possible. The theory is something I think you will enjoy pursuing in your own time anyway so I doubt it will suffer."

"Yes sir," the little one said meekly. "If that's what you think, sir."

"Miley did tremendously well last night, Mr Giles," Reece said. "He was the first to get free and without him we might all have been still lying there at the mercy of the werewolf when it arrived."

Buffy was surprised, not that Anthony did well, though that was a shock too, but that Reece was actually praising him. He'd been almost as bad to the kid all week as Peter had been.

"That's excellent and will give you something to build on," Giles said, flashing the boy a bright smile. "I'll look forward to having you return here, if you are willing, in two years time. How does that sound?"

"Very good sir. I'll look forward to it to it too sir," Anthony said. With a beaming smile of his own he accepted his envelope.

It was amusing the way they all called him sir.

"Now we come to Rajiv Kupoor," said Giles.

Rajiv sat up smartly but with a little dread in his eyes. Maybe he was expecting similar treatment to Peter.

"Don't look so worried," Giles went on. "If I'm honest, I had the hardest time deciding on your fate," he smiled, but Rajiv didn't look any less worried. "If I had three places to offer here, you would be staying. Unfortunately at the moment that's not possible and so I have a choice to offer you."

"And that is sir?" Rajiv asked politely, obviously surprised.

"Well young man, you can either continue on your path of herbal enlightenment…" Reece and Peter sniggered and Rajiv looked bashful. "…and get eaten at some point by either a demon or a giant psychedelic caterpillar or you can go to New Delhi to work with your uncle."

"India?" Rajiv checked. He looked about halfway between excited and scared.

Buffy could relate; she'd feel the same. "There's a Council in India?" she asked, breaking her silence for the first time.

Giles went to speak, but Rajiv got there first. "There's Council all over the world. India has the fourth largest, or did, s'probably the third largest now Britain's has been decimated." He looked at Giles again. "Uncle Abhay is in charge over there now?"

"Yes, sadly Colin Winchester was in England when the bomb went off. Abhay was his second in command, well to be fair he practically ran the place anyway what with Winchester's ill health in recent years, and it makes much more sense to have an Indian running the branch than to ship over someone who doesn't have the first clue about the country. That is why I would like you there. I appreciate you left New Delhi when you were only nine, but I imagine you still have some resonance with the country and your uncle is a fine operative but he can't be expected to handle all of this new responsibility himself. Of course, if you'd rather…"

"No, no!" Rajiv almost stood up in his insistence. "I'll go. I mean if that's where I can be most useful I'd love to go."

"Right, that's settled then. You fly out two weeks Thursday." Giles handed him his envelope. "I don't think I need to tell you how seriously they take narcotics abuse in that part of the world, but I will warn you that I have asked persons who are not your uncle to report to me on your general activities while you are there; so be forewarned, any of that nonsense and you'll find yourself in charge of mopping out Indian loos long before you're in charge of a Slayer. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir, I'll have my last spliff on the way to the airport," Rajiv said, his tone serious but with a hint of laughter in his eyes.

Giles rolled his eyes, but he was smiling just slightly as the rest of the cadet's chuckled. Buffy smirked at his audacity.

"Right then, I think that about raps it up," Giles began. "Unless Buffy has anything to add?"

"What?" Buffy sat up straighter on the trampoline; she hadn't expected to be called upon. "Oh, no, I think you said it all just right, Giles. Except, you know, good luck everyone, and don't let Giles down or else I'll come after you." She looked at Peter, adding, "Especially you."

He smirked at her, not in the least bothered.

"What about Craig?" asked Naomi as they all began to stand up and lean the mats back against the wall.

Buffy blinked at his name. She still hadn't finished processing the information that Craig was Giles' Godson – something she'd only found out an hour ago, and she also hadn't yet figured out how he fitted in to the whole Watcher cadet thing, or why he'd come over here if he wasn't one and had kept himself hidden from Giles.

"Ah, yes, well I expect I'll be able to get him on a flight tomorrow with the others," Giles hadn't really had time to process it all either. "We'll see. He's helping Andrew cook tea at the minute which I imagine will be ready soon. So unless there are any other questions I suggest we all go and make ourselves presentable."

The cadets all left the training barn noisily talking about their assignments. Buffy watched them go before standing up on the trampoline and bouncing.

Giles stayed, coming over to rest his elbows on the blue trim of the trampoline. "Relax your shoulders more," he instructed absently. "You don't need to bounce all hunched up like that; you'll hurt your back."

"I fight vampires and demons on a nightly basis, or I did once upon a time, and you're worried I'm going to put my back out on a trampoline?" Buffy asked, amused.

Giles waved his hand tiredly at her. Buffy followed his advice and wasn't surprised that he was right. Relaxed shoulders did make for a pleasanter jumping experience!

"So do you think Peter will do Slayers everywhere a favour and take your advice?" she asked.

"I've no idea, but I certainly hope not," Giles admitted.

Buffy slowed her bouncing down until her feet were barely leaving the mat. "And my colour of choice today? Yep you guessed it: Confused. Care to unconfuse me?"

Giles smiled fondly at her. "I agree he's hardly first choice material, none of them are as yet, but we have to face the facts. The world changed in May; there are now hundreds, maybe even thousands of young inexperienced Slayers and only a handful of trained and active Watchers. Many of the experienced Watchers left alive are beyond retirement age. Most have agreed to come back in an advisory capacity, but they're far too old to be expected to take on the Watching of a Slayer. The basic training alone would see most of them in need of an oxygen tank."

"Well what about all the foreign watchers like Raj's uncle?" Buffy asked.

"Abhay Kupoor, yes, he's a fine man and has worked with several potentials in his time, but a Slayer is far different. For one, Potential's aren't expected to actually slay any vampires and it becomes a much more demanding job once your girl is, as you said, fighting vampires and demons every night. Kupoor may be very good with Potentials, but he's never in the past had a Slayer in his charge, and now he has six," Giles scratched the back of his head, vexed. "And one of them doesn't speak a word of any language he's ever heard of and he's fluent in three."

"So we need more Watchers, like, stat!" Buffy declared, jumping a little more vigorously again. "It's a pity you Watchers aren't called in the same way as us Slayers. You know, like one day you're just an average nerd and then **BAM **you wake up one morning and you can speak four languages and know everything there is to know about trampolining techniques." she grinned.

"Watchers called to the fight?" Giles mused to himself.

Buffy stopped actively bouncing, "Giles, you okay? I just insulted you three times in a single sentence and you didn't cluck your tongue or roll you eyes or anything."

"Oh, no no, I'm fine. It's just…" he gave her a pained smile which totally confused her. "You've given me something to think on."

"Oh, good then?" Buffy frowned.

"Yes, yes it may prove to be," Giles' weird expression cleared up and he smiled more readily at her. "Anyway I believe Craig persuaded Andrew to try is hand at Roast Pork this evening; I need to go and make sure they've remembered the apple sauce. I love a nice tart apple sauce." he grinned.

He started towards the training barn door, stopping again when he realised she was still on the trampoline, "Are you not coming?"

"I'm not really hungry; the Bottom Pie tends to lay heavy on the stomach." Giles looked perplexed, but before he could speak Buffy carried on, "I want to bounce for a bit; work some stuff out of my system – you know the healthy way."

Giles stopped by the door. "Stuff about…"

Buffy cut him off before he could finish, "Just stuff about bouncing."

"Okay," he didn't believe her, but that wasn't surprising considering it made no sense. He looked at his watch. "You know it's not too late…"

Buffy cut him off again as she jumped harder and higher, "So not with the caring. See? I'm all bouncy and carefree."

"Okay, well don't bounce yourself into the roof; there are probably still spiders up there." He gave her an unsure smile and left.

Buffy jumped a couple more times before doing a summersault and landing on her back.

As the springs continued to bounce her up and down, she looked at her own watch.

"Faith, where the fuck are you?" she muttered into the empty room as her emotions played a tug of war.

* * *

A loud cawing and crashing sound awoke Faith with a start and she nearly fell off of the branch she was balancing on.

Wiping a hand across her mouth, she looked around for the source of interruption. It was a crow, perching on the rocks ringing the pool and staring at her with beady little eyes.

She watched it sleepily. When it was sure it had her attention it leaned down and pecked at the bar of soap she'd left there. It was only really a small white sliver of soap now. After washing herself and taking a few minutes to 'relax', she'd set about scrubbing and re-scrubbing her clothes.

The water in the pool had quickly lowered her body temperature though and so after rinsing them under the waterfall she'd had to get out.

"Go for it; eat it all up if ya want. I'm done with it." Faith offered the bird. Her neck was stiff from falling asleep wedged six-foot off the ground in the Black Oak. It had been comfortable when she'd fallen asleep, not that she'd meant to fall asleep.

Rolling her shoulders a few times to try and get some life back into them, she jumped from her branch to the ground. The crow took off taking the soap with it. That bird would be singing bubbles for the next week.

Her clothes were hanging where she'd left them, on several saplings that made a great clothes line between them. They were stiff as boards but dry and clean as she lost the now less-than-fluffy towel and slipped into them.

"Okay, this is uncomfortable," she muttered, walking around the clearing a few times to loose them up. She did a few squats, a few jumping jacks and even a cartwheel to work the stiffness out of her jeans and her muscles.

Her hair was another matter. She had no mirror to see how bad it was and no brush to correct any damage that needed correcting anyway. From what she could feel it was probably frizzy as hell and rock hard too. She should have asked the shop keeper for some conditioner. She wet her hands in the pool and dragged them over her hair a few times to try and make it more presentable.

Happy she was looking and smelling as good as she was going to get without the aid of a proper bathroom, Faith slipped her feet into her boots. She'd given them a bit of a scrub too before she'd taken her nap and they were looking as good as new apart from the scuff marks on the toes. She laced them quickly and retrieved her jacket from the towel log. Checking inside the pockets she found everything there that should be, so she hadn't had any secret visitors while she was dozing like a panther in the tree.

She slipped the denim on. She hadn't washed it, but it wasn't that dirty anyway and didn't smell bad. Besides, she could lose it the second she found the house; stick it in the laundry pile and hope someone would wash it before they realised it was hers.

She rolled the towel so it was small enough to carry easily and gave the pool a last good look.

Heading in the direction she'd been travelling before, the ground began sloping upwards a little more sharply making her work a little bit harder as she followed the winding paths through the trees.

Once the land started flattening out once more, the trees were thinning enough that she came make out fields beyond. Great, more fields. At least in the woods things were a little interesting, there were… trees and stuff to look at.

She'd barely left the cover of the woods behind when she looked up from watching her newly shiny boots covering the ground and saw the house in front of her.

"Well damn," she muttered as she took in the two story timber and brick structure a hundred yards away.

This was it. She didn't need a big sign saying Sunset Camp to tell her she'd stumbled on the right place, something deep inside was telling her it was. Almost as if she could feel Buffy inside. Maybe she could, but it had been so long since they had been close she'd forgotten what that felt like.

"Damn," she muttered again.

She'd smoked the last of her cigarettes two days ago and was really regretting wasting it. She could have used one now; she could have used ten now.

What did she do? Go knock on the door?

It wasn't just Buffy that might be mad at her.

Giles had probably been so mad last week he'd snapped the Union Jack flag pole stuck in his ass. He was definitely gonna be regretting ever putting any faith in her; let alone going out on a limb and offering her a place to stay.

Xander and Willow were hardly her biggest fans, with damn good reason, and her shooting through on their dearest darling Buffy had more than likely killed any good will that'd developed during her last stay in Sunnydale. Saving the world only earned you so many popularity points after all and they were a lot easier to lose than to gain.

Dawn's grudging acceptance of her a few months ago had only come about because she'd taken the younger girl to the Bronze when big Sis was being a stuck-up, mission-orientated, no-fun, tight-ass. She probably hated Faith now too for effectively ditching her sister twice in six months. Dawn was too young to understand why Faith had had to go back to prison. In fact maybe they all were.

None of them knew what it was like to be her; to have a rage at the world so tightly coiled deep in her gut that sometimes physical violence was the only release that could calm it.

Sure they had their fair share of problems, who didn't, but they'd either learnt healthier ways to deal with the rage or they just didn't have the capacity for that kind of feeling in the first place.

She couldn't go in there and handle all of those pissed off; we-knew-you-weren't-worth-it faces all at once. One at a time, with maybe an hour and a couple of deep breaths in-between each and she could do it, maybe, but not now like this.

It was too much like getting up in court all over again, surrounded by all of those judging and condemning expressions, and this time it would be worse because she actually gave a shit what these people thought of her.

The trees exploded behind her, sending out a spray of early fall leaves followed by a boy. A naked boy.

"What the..?" Faith had to jump out of the way to avoid being run down.

She stared at the kid in surprise as he stood there panting, frantically turning his head from one side to the other.

"You oka…" she started to ask, although it was probably a stupid question seeing as he'd just run out of the woods naked.

"What time is it?" he cut her off urgently.

"I don't know, sometime in the afternoon," she guessed, noticing dried blood in his hair. "Hey maybe you should sit down for a…"

"My mom is gonna kill me!" he stressed and took off back into the woods.

Faith stared after him with a bemused frown, but it wasn't long before she turned a more worried frown back to the imposing house.

* * *

"Cu-cu-cu-clurrrk!" The chicken thrust her neck forward a little as she gave birth into the straw birthing pool. With a slight ruffle of her feathers she hopped back down to the fuzzy pink ground, joining her sisters.

"Cluck," said one.

"Clu-uck," she said back.

It had been a strange time for the young hen. Leaving behind the hatchery in the enormous moving hen house that smelled of pig-creatures to be dumped free on the hard yet tickly green ground surrounded by noisy chick-takers. She had tried to lead her sisters in a great escape at that point, but as usual they had taken the ordeal in their short jerky little strides and the next thing she knew… A moment of perfect rainbow coloured bliss, and she was sure it was as had been predicted and she had flown from earth to the fabled barnyard of paradise.

Somehow something had gone wrong on her way to the fabled barnyard of paradise and when the rainbow bliss had disappeared she'd had found herself in the biggest hen house she had ever seen with a loud and expressive chick-taker wielding a… _broom!_

Not that her new life was so bad, the hen mused. The chick-taker may be keeping them prisoner but he was generous with the grain and he'd spread straw around his hen house for their comfort. And she quite liked the fuzzy pink ground; she gave it a scratch now to prove it.

There was noise and the chick-taker appeared in the hen house. Her sisters clucked in alarm, scattering away from him, but she stood her ground, eyeballing him.

"Clu-ucka," she threatened his funny-shaped feet.

"Well now miss, I think I've kept you and your friends for long enough, don't you?" Big booming melodic nonsense came from the chick-taker.

"Cluc-erk!" She drew her head back to look upwards, waiting for grain.

"I've surely enough eggs for many a handsome breakfast," The chick-taker threw a handful of grain to the fuzzy pink ground. "But it's time to send you home." he sighed.

She and her sisters ignored his strange sounds, too busy running forward to argue and bicker over the fresh food. Out of one beady black eye she watched with disinterest as the chick-taker made a white line around them all. Her curiosity grew when she saw him with a handful of sparkily grain and she stretched her neck to full reach as he threw it over them.

Before she could get a beakful of the sparkily grain the rainbow coloured bliss came back.

At last, now she was on her way to the fabled Barnyard of Paradise and nothing was going to stop her!

* * *

Willow came back through the swinging kitchen door with three fresh beers. "Andrew's really out done himself tonight. I think if those kids miss anything about staying here, it will be his cooking. He's put us a plate aside for later…"

"I'm not hungry," Kennedy mumbled from the couch.

Willow's shoulders slumped as she realised Kennedy and Oz were still in the same awkward position she'd left them in a few minutes ago.

Kennedy was sprawled on the couch, her eyes on the television as she used the remote to flick through the channels relentlessly. The volume was very low but she wasn't making any other discernable effort to make Oz feel comfortable.

Willow wondered if they'd even exchanged syllables since she'd been gone.

Oz was sat in Giles armchair and she couldn't tell if he was relaxed or not, it was always so hard to tell with him. He smiled at her as she handed over a bottle, gesturing for her to sit in the armchair opposite him so they could continue to talk.

It was only after she'd pushed Kennedy's legs to the back of the couch and sat on the edge next to them instead, that she thought it might make her ex uncomfortable. Damn. Well she was sat here now, moving would look obvious. She handed Kennedy her beer and smiled brightly at Oz to hide her nervousness.

"I've been looking for you, you know, ever since last month," she told him.

"You recognised me then, I wasn't sure if you would." Oz smiled.

He looked a lot better and certainly more like his old self now that he was dressed in some of Xander's clothes. Girl!Oz was definitely something that should remain in fantasy land because when it was real, it was just plain weird.

"Well I wasn't one hundred percent sure, but I thought that maybe it was you," she explained. "But then I couldn't find you so I thought maybe I was wrong."

"Well, it was kinda weird seeing you again, you know, here. I wasn't expecting it. I know we said that thing about Istanbul, but this is a long way from Istanbul. It took me some time to process and I had some stuff I had to do, with the werewolves, well the surviving one anyway."

"What thing about Istanbul?" Kennedy asked, her eyes still on the television.

"Oh, it's just a – just a thing," Willow promised, realising it didn't explain a darn thing but hoping that Kennedy would get the message to ask later.

"Just a thing, got it." Either Kennedy did get the message or the shoulder of coldness was already warming up, or should that be cooling down.

"I tried to phone." Oz didn't seem to sense anything unfriendly from Kennedy at least. "Friday actually, but everyone was out."

"That was you?" Willow remembered Alison's puzzling message. "But you asked to speak to Xander; why not me?"

"I wasn't sure what your situation was here." Oz looked down at his palms for a beat before his gaze flittered to Kennedy. "If you were still with Tara I didn't want to rock the boat or, you know, turn into a crazed hairball." He gave her a half smile.

"Tara died," Willow said tightly. "It was… It was a while ago now."

Surprisingly Kennedy didn't say anything.

"I'm sorry," Oz said softly, inclining his head a little as he gazed at her with open compassion.

She knew it wasn't supposed to, but it just made Willow feel guilty. She looked away, sipping from her beer.

"If you didn't want to rock the boat by asking for Willow over the phone…" Kennedy suddenly asked, her head turned just enough to look his way. "…what made you think turning up on her doorstep was such a great idea?"

"Kennedy." Willow murmured. She didn't want a scene tonight. Her head was still hurting a little and she could barely keep her eyes in focus.

"I thought I was in here so I could be included," Kennedy said, eyes glued to the NASDAQ index on the television screen. "But I can't ask a perfectly reasonable question?"

"Maybe we should stay away from questions that might come across as a little bit incendiary," Willow pleaded softly. "You know, just for tonight."

"I hadn't planned on dropping by so unexpected," Oz looked at Kennedy. "But then someone shot me with a tranquilliser dart and changed my plans."

Kennedy smiled, tongue in cheek literally and metaphorically, "Really, and here I thought I shot an ugly-ass werewolf that was trying to kill our house?"

"You shot Oz?" Willow looked from Kennedy to Oz, appalled.

"No," Kennedy started calmly, "Like I said, I shot…"

"The wolf part of him, I get it," Willow cut her off. "I just so didn't want you to meet like this. I was hoping, maybe, that the three us could, sometime, get some lunch, you know in a civilized kinda way with politeness and stuff…"

"I'm being polite," Oz pointed out.

"Are you saying I'm not?" Kennedy asked.

"Ye Gods," Willow said to the ceiling. Praying to Gaia for strength she asked Oz, "But why were you out there all wolfy in the first place? Did the charms and stuff stop working and isn't it like dangerous, not just in case you get shot, but for other people too."

Oz smiled gently, "Things are different now; I'm different now. The charms and the meditations I use are different and I've been training with some pretty powerful people over the last few years. After what happened the last time I was in Sunnydale I knew there was so much more I needed to know. I mean, my jealousy caused me to change in broad daylight." Willow saw him glance side-long at Kennedy. "That had never happened before. So I spent a lot of time working with some pretty serious people and now I can change mostly at will, it's not easy I'll grant you, but it's possible; and when I change I can keep a clear head in a way."

"So you still think like you only wolf-shaped," Willow asked hopefully.

"No, more like I think like a domesticated werewolf," Oz's lips twitched in a smile. "Still in the proto-stages though, I won't be asked to join the AKC anytime soon, but if you want a flock of sheep looking after…"

"This is all so much to take in," Willow said honestly. "And brain is all cottony."

"It's all pretty far-fetched too," Kennedy rolled over on the couch so she could stare at Oz. "Considering you attacked a bunch of helpless watcher's, twice, and chased Pete out of the woods."

"I wasn't the one doing the attacking," Oz replied emphatically, well for him.

"So it was another werewolf?" Kennedy asked, rolling her eyes sarcastically.

"The boy, the one that was bitten last month, I think." Oz addressed Willow. "He'd been terrorising the woods all night and must have gotten carried away. I just about had him calmed down when I was doped."

"Kennedy!" Willow turned to her in dismay. "You shot the wrong wolf!"

"How was I supposed to know?" Kennedy shot back, sitting up. "I saw a werewolf, I fired at it. I didn't know I was supposed to check the photograph album first to make sure I wasn't aiming at your honey!"

"This isn't Willow's fault," Oz said, quiet but adamant. "So I don't know why you are shouting at her."

"And I don't need your comprehension to be entitled to have an argument with my girlfriend!" Kennedy told him heatedly.

The silence returned as they glared at each other.

'_Oh boy,'_ Willow thought, rolling her eyes to the ceiling again. "Anyone want another beer?" she asked as chirpily as she could manage with the fatigue that was trying to smother her to sleep.

She stood up even though no one answered, started for the kitchen door and was mentally blindsided by a wave of magick.

'Huh? I must be even more tired than I thought,' she decided and then promptly fell over a chicken.

Staying on the floor Willow looked around, "The chickens came back!"

She counted six Buckeye Red's now pecking at the carpet around the coffee table. "They did right? I'm not hallucinating chickens or something?"

"No, there are definitely six chickens in your living room," Oz assured her.

"How'd you get them back?" Kennedy asked, shooing a hen away from the cables at the back of the television.

"No idea," Willow admitted, still looking around in a daze.

The brightest of the Buckeye Hens straightened her feathers ruffled by the flight through the rainbow coloured bliss; her head bobbing and jerking about in excited anticipation as she looked about for the fabled golden grain and perch of feather-soft straw…What she saw did not make her day.

This wasn't the clucking Barnyard of Paradise!

* * *

Buffy let herself in the front door to avoid the kitchen, she just couldn't face all the people in there right now. Or even one person for that matter. The crying she'd indulged in since Giles had left her alone in the training barn had left her eyes red and puffy which only added to the bags she already had from thirty-six hours with no sleep and the lines beginning to form from the week's worth of stress and worry.

Eight years battling evil, but leave it to Faith to ruin her looks.

She was pulling her key out of the lock when she heard the voices coming from the living room. Peeking around the corner she saw Willow in there on the floor with Kennedy and Oz, well they weren't all on the floor because that would have been weird and threesomes were better kept for the bedroom… Except, oh yeah, Willow and Kennedy' bedroom was a charred mess thanks to her.

Buffy wondered if she could blame that on Faith too. Technically maybe, in a temporary insanity due to stress way, but not with enough conviction to make herself feel less guilty.

Anyway her best friend wasn't having a three-way with her girlfriend and her ex on the living room floor, she was exclaiming about the chickens, which Buffy could see had returned. Maybe they'd been trapped between the planes in limbo too or perhaps the magick Willow had dipped into earlier had lead her to a way to find the chickens in the same way she had once found out how to de-rat Amy.

Buffy hovered at the bottom of the stairs unnoticed. If that were so, did Willow now have the ability to bring back Faith in the same way? Could she whisper a few ancient words and the dark Slayer would materialise in the centre of the room scratching the ground like a chicken; or just standing there pleased to see Buffy would be good too.

She couldn't ask, Buffy knew, as she started quietly up the front stairs away from the thick tension pouring from the living room. If Faith was brought here by magick against her will she would never forgive the people responsible and Buffy wouldn't blame her. Not only that, Faith would leave again immediately making the entire episode pointless.

If Faith had places she'd rather be and people she'd rather be with then, well, screw her.

Buffy didn't mean that, but what else was she supposed to say. She'd spent a week searching every avenue she could think of for the other Slayer. Had driven Giles and Angel up the wall with questions and recriminations, blaming them in some way for Faith's disappearance. She'd pissed Angel off so much that he was refusing to even answer his phone now. She'd been trying his cell on and off all afternoon with no luck.

Faith had disappeared off the face of the planet and Buffy was just going to have to accept it.

Going into her bedroom she flicked on her bedside light, although it was still early in the evening, heavy clouds were rolling in making twilight come earlier. Buffy didn't mind, it would just make it easier to go to sleep and that's all she wanted to do now.

Her room smelled of smoke and wet ash, making her nose wrinkle and her still-wet eyes sting. As she pulled her curtains closed against the gathering dark, she pushed her window open just a few inches wider to help clear the air. The room would get cold quickly, especially if it rained, but the idea of snuggling deep beneath her bedcovers was appealing.

These days she had a strong yearning to burrow somewhere deep and safe and hibernate from the rest of the world like a hamster. Did hamsters hibernate?

Washing her face in the bathroom she kept the water cold to soothe her burning eyes and she stared into them as she brushed her teeth; giving herself a mental talking to, trying to make herself accept things were the way they were. It was over, once and for all and accepting that was the only thing that would make being without her bearable.

Faith's parole officer would be there in the morning and probably about two minutes after that the authorities would be looking for her to drag her butt back to prison. Buffy wasn't sure what the 'authorities' exactly entailed, obviously the police and state-troopers, maybe the FBI, hell for all she knew the darn Mounties would be given WANTED posters of the other Slayer to hang around Canada.

Alex would almost certainly have one, she realised. The deputy sheriff would be one of the first people the 'authorities' would contact considering Faith was supposed to be in his town in the first place. Buffy wondered if Alex would give her a copy of the poster if she asked him nicely enough.

Probably not a good idea. She wouldn't know whether to kiss it or use it as a dartboard.

Back in her room, she clicked the door shut and undressed quickly. The room was already a lot cooler than it had been minutes before. She grabbed her flannel nightie from beneath her pillow, planning on pulling it on quickly to warm up, but she hesitated.

Going to her chest of drawers, she opened the middle one and looked inside. Nestled on top of her sunbathing snowmen pyjamas was the white negligee she'd brought in Cleveland two weeks ago. It was made of lace so fine and gauzy it was almost transparent.

Buffy had struggled for ages in the store trying to decide between black and red while ignoring the sales women who kept looking at her with creepy little knowing smiles. Somehow, when she'd been shown the white one, the one now in her drawer, she'd just known it was the colour Faith would get the biggest kick out of.

When the clerk had assured her "He'll love it, dear!" Buffy's smirk at just how much they didn't have a clue was hidden behind a smile of genuine hope and nervous anticipation.

Looking at how pretty it was it seemed a shame to let $60 of sexy nightwear rot away in a drawer and if she didn't wear it for herself, she'd probably never get a chance to wear it at all.

She let her finger tips play with the delicate straps for a second before shutting the drawer again. She'd wear it, just on a warmer night that was all, preferably a night when she wasn't planning on crying herself to sleep.

So definitely not tonight then.

She pulled her trusty teddy bear nightshirt over her head and looked into the mirror to brush her dark blonde hair through a couple of dozen times. No point going for the even hundred, after all when she became crazy cat lady – or whatever it was Kennedy had predicted – appearances were hardly going to be important… or were they?

"Maybe I should work on getting it to stick out at all angles or dye it grey instead of blonde next time to fit into the spinster image," she mused, running a hand through it. She caught some between her fingers and forgot about growing old alone long enough to inspect the ends.

She didn't think she'd suit grey hair though; maybe pure white would look better. More sophisticated. Oh who was she kidding? "I want Naomi's hair." She admitted to her reflection.

"Which one's Naomi?"

Buffy, startled, looked over her reflection's left shoulder at the window. The curtains were billowing drastically, which seemed fitting.

Recovering her poise quickly, Buffy ran the brush through her hair once more before placing it softly, deliberately, on her dressing table.

"The one with the gorgeous hair."

"Oh." There was a deep chuckle as rich as red wine and dark chocolate. Twin thuds of boots hitting her bedroom floor. "I like yours better."

Buffy licked her lips and nodded her head, but she still didn't turn to her visitor. "You're cutting it fine."

She listened to the soft footfalls coming her way. Could she hear this well a minute ago? Were her other senses dulled to accommodate? Like for instance, if she turned around would she not be able to see anything.

Well she still had smell that was for sure. Buffy sucked in a silent breath as she was wrapped in that seductive scent for the first time in way too long. Ooh look, she had touch too, that was always a good one. She battled hard to keep the purr locked in her throat as long fingers ran through her hair, moving it to the side so soft lips could graze her neck. Oh yeah, touch was good.

"The finer the cut, B, the better it feels."

She was spun around then, and didn't bother to fight it. Her butt pressed into the edge of her dressing table as she was enveloped within cotton and denim and Faith. The last was the best of all.

Buffy's arms went around the brunette, her hands rubbing up and down her back, over muscles lean beneath her jacket. She just needed to feel, to know this was real and not just another dream that was great until she woke up.

When Faith kissed her, wet and hungry, and as desperately as Buffy felt herself, she knew it was real…_finally_.

Tears fell down Buffy's cheeks but she barely noticed them and didn't acknowledge them as she pulled Faith close, wrapping her arms tighter around her. Scared that if she let go for a second whatever magic had brought her here would evaporate and take Faith with it.

"Missed you, B." Faith whispered against her lips, between one breathless kiss and another.

Buffy's hands found Faith's cheeks, pulling her into another deep kiss as Faith pushed her back onto the dressing table. Bottles of lotions and body sprays clattered to the peach coloured glass as it rocked slightly into the wall behind.

"How much did you miss me?" Buffy asked breathlessly when their lips parted for the briefest of moments. She pushed Faith's tatty denim jacket from her shoulders; she'd lost weight since the last time they'd been this close. She was harder, firmer; Buffy pushed herself closer wrapping her legs around Faith's waist.

"You want me to get poetic?" Faith asked as she moved her mouth to kiss the exposed V at the base of Buffy's throat, her fingers lightly pulling the nightshirt wider.

"No." Buffy pulled Faith's head up so she could look her dead in the eye; brushing wild, dark hair from Faith's face. "Show me."

"Alright." Faith touched her fingers to Buffy's chin, tilting her head up and she could see it right there in her dark eyes.

It wasn't enough, maybe nothing would ever be truly enough, "I need more," she pleaded softly.

"I haven't even started yet, babe," Faith promised, just as softly. "And I sure as hell ain't planning on stopping any time soon."

"You better mean that!" Buffy kissed her with her eyes open, not wanting to lose sight of Faith for a second as warm hands began to slide up between her thighs beneath her nightie. Faith's eyes drank her in the same way until they lost themselves in one another.

Gripping Faith's shirt tight, Buffy moaned into the intense kiss, as gradually her dressing table began rocking softly into the wall.

* * *

_End of Watcher Looking At 2._

_Thanks for reading and taking the time to comment. You all rock!_

_Love is a Four Letter Word... Coming soon._


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